Keeper's Cross
by Pbmolecules
Summary: Dean's on time-out from hunting, running a record store (weapon shop) for Bobby. In this AU Keepers are Bobby's crew that keep Hunters supplied and safe. A Hunter faction, radicals known as Angels, lose one of their own when Cas is accidentally brought into the most secret place hunters have, Keeper's Cross. No angels on Earth in this AU. Destiel, Sabriel Better summary inside :)
1. Chapter 1

A better summary: AU. Destiel. Dean and Sam have stopped hunting. Not because they aren't driven to protect people from monsters. There is no way out of the family business. They need time to heal and time to remember why they do what they do. They have moved to Sioux Falls to become Keepers. Keepers are the suppliers and coordinators that Hunters need. All Hunters know where to go to get the specific weapons, ingredients and lore they need. Bobby has relegated Dean and Sam to become shop keepers to help fight the good fight from behind the lines. It's a bitter post for Dean to handle, but maybe one year off won't kill him. Then a rival Hunter faction, radicals known as the Angels, unwittingly loses one of their own. Castiel is unknowingly brought into the most sacred spot the Hunters have. Keeper's Cross.

In this AU, there are no angels from Heaven on Earth. Strictly man vs. monster/demon.

Chapter 1. Just Another Thursday

Fun fact- The location of Keeper's Cross is a real location in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

By real, I mean the streets are really there. I'm sure whoever's farm is there would love what I've done with the place! LOL! :D

Dean squinted at the music sheet again. He adjusted his left fingering on the strings of his guitar and strummed. He started from the beginning again and made the adjustment this time.

"Yeah, baby, that's it!" Dean laughed out loud, nodding and playing it through again. He was re-teaching himself how to play guitar. He had to admit, it was a lot of fun.

Proud of his accomplishment, he sat the guitar in it's stand and hit 'play' on his phone, which was connected to the store's surround sound. 'Freebird' filled the store and Dean could visualize the chords now as he walked from the back of the store where he had a small playing area set up and sat behind the counter at the front.

He sighed, looking at the lonely front door with the 'OPEN' sign still lit. It was 11:45 on a Thursday night. Dean's night to be open all night in case a Hunter stumbled into town and needed refuge. He leaned onto one elbow, eyes lost outside the large shop windows. Lyrics drifted into his wandering thoughts, pulling his memories out onto the road.

'Please don't take this so badly, most of all know I'm to blame, if I stay here with you girl, things just couldn't be the same, cause I'm as free as bird now, and this bird you can not change..'

Moments like this, Dean felt chained to his desk, barred in by the glass windows and doors. He needed the road. The hunt. The freedom. He had been a Hunter since he was little. His dad's back-up, his own man, until he and Sammy fucked it all up. One run-in with an apocalypse will do that. He and Sam had defeated Azazel, a top shelf demon. Good job, right? Turned out they were so hunted and burned by the demon community that Sam and Dean couldn't move 2 miles without being targeted. They had damn near died every day from Azazel's demise until they finally managed to bury themselves so far away from everything that the rumors of their deaths surfaced. So much for being great Hunters.

They had laid low for over a month, barely eating, barely surviving. They managed to sneak their way back to Bobby's. That was when Bobby pulled rank and sat the brothers down for a 'you idjits!' conversation. Sam was safe and the world was saved from the maniacal plans of Yellow-eyes. But their faces were known. They were wanted in two states for run-of-the-mill hunting snags. Bobby put them on lock-down. Said they were gonna blow everyone's covers, expose Hunters and Keepers alike. Sam was so burnt out, he had more of an issue not going back to college. But Bobby said no. No college. No road. No hunting. Their asses were his for one year. They had one year to do their parts as Keepers. Dean fought it harder. He wanted back out there. But the risk was too high. And Bobby's word was law among Hunters and Keepers alike. Not to mention Bobby was more of a father figure for him and Sam than their dad had turned out to be. So, one year. Like a jail sentence. Dean put his baby in storage. He burned his old ID's and actually moved into an apartment. Freakin' weird.

Bobby Singer was the boss. Dean knew he couldn't make it out there alone without Hunter/Keeper back-up, and so, here he sat. Their dad had been dead for over two years now. And Bobby was the closest thing to family Sam and Dean had. And they loved the surly pain in the ass.

So Dean gave up hunting. He was no longer a Hunter. He was a Keeper.

Keepers had been around since the West was wild. Bobby inherited his land from his father, one of a long line of Keepers. The Keepers kept things. Bodies, demons locked in relics, weapons, potions, ingredients, information, cursed items, you need it, you can't ditch it, Keepers keep it.

Hunters hunt. Keepers keep. Watchers are people who have had run-ins with a monster of some sort, know the supernatural world is out there, but are not a part of it. They watch though. They watch and call a Hunter. The Clouds are all the other Joe-Schmoes who have never crossed paths with supernatural and do not believe in it or are totally unaware of it. They live the easy life, head in the clouds. They go on about day to day business making the world out there turn, while behind their cloud-covered backs, Hunters keep them safe. Being born into a Hunter family made Dean and Sam Hunters by blood rite. Those kinds of things used to matter. Hunters were bloodlines of families. The chosen. The cursed. But those ideals are ancient history, for most. You are who you are. But you better know someone, or you will never find the Keepers and never have the support you need. Rogue hunters usually died young or ended up in jail. Or both.

There was one faction of Hunters that were fanatics. They were obsessed with bloodlines. They called themselves Angels. They operated like an army, only attacking when they deemed the Cloud worth saving or the situation likely to blow the cover off supernatural existence. They focused on demons, usually leaving ghosts, vampires, werewolves, wendigos, etc. for the lowly Hunters to clean up. Their paths crossed often enough, but Hunters and Angels were enemies. They both hunted, but Angels believed themselves to be far superior. Dean and Sam had never encountered one, but their battle with Azazel had alerted the Angels of a bunch of 'monkeys meddling with things they ought not meddle in'.

Angels had resources to search them out. It was another reason Sam and Dean had been kept at Keeper's Cross.

Why Sioux Falls, South Dakota? Why not? Back in the wild west days, it was barren. No one for miles and miles. So the first American Keeper bought a huge plot of land and put down roots.

While monsters infiltrated society and spread out, Hunters chased them. Keepers kept the Hunters alive and hidden. Sioux Falls grew up and spread out and Bobby's dad had to put up fences. He built a Salvage yard to deter people. In the 80's, when 'progress' caught up with them again, His dad had several businesses built to front the property. The infamous Keeper plot took over a crossroad. Powder House Road (running north to south), which ran from the outskirts of town up to Bobby's salvage yard. The road crossing it (west to east) is Madison Street. The Roadhouse went up first, on the northwest corner of Madison and Powder House. Family friends and fellow Keepers, the Harvelle's, ran the bar. The small strip of stores cropped up along Madison, the northeast corner, to keep the Clouds out.

Bobby opened a garage on the southwest corner, across from the Roadhouse, Bobby's Garage. It supplemented the salvage yard and brought in more money. Across the street, Powder House Road, the six stores were built and staffed with Keepers. Since they only had to pay utilities and taxes, they stayed open as long as Bobby had a Keeper to run it. Dean's was the first store, Black Dog. He sold records, CD's and other music paraphernalia. In the basement, he sold weapons and ammo. Sam was running the next store, The Bookkeeper. It was the oldest store there and the largest. He sold books, obviously. And Sam, the bookworm that he was, was a natural at it. In the basement, they sold books on lore and spell books. More than selling, it was used as a reference room. Charlie and Ash ran the next store over, an electronics shop called Frank's Electronics. The name was left over from a Keeper that ran it years ago, who only Bobby knew the whereabouts of. In the basement, they were information gatherers and could create any and all kinds of ID's the good Hunter would need. Next was Wayward Things, run by Chuck. It was a thrift shop for Clouds and a one-stop supply shop for Hunters. The business on the end had been a bistro until the Keeper running it turned Hunter and left. It stood vacant for now. Behind the strip of shops, further back Powder House Road, was a long block of apartments. Keepers, Watchers and one very dense elderly Cloud (Mrs. Stolfitz with her five cats) lived there. There were 1-2 empty apartments for the needing Hunter to crash.

The intersection, or crossroads, was a secret well kept. If you were in the know, Hunters always had a home at 'Madison's Powder House' or 'Keeper's Cross'.

While Dean had some good, yet patchy, memories of spending time at Bobby's, he could not believe he was saddled with a store here. Well, better here than hiding in the woods starving to death with Sam.

Dean's wandering thoughts were snagged by a set of headlights going by. He blinked away the memories and pulled a copy of Rolling Stone from the rack beside the register, flipping to an article he had started earlier that day. His cell phone rang and his eyes rolled upward in annoyance.

"Hey, Jo."

"Dean, you need me to work tomorrow night!" Dean recognized the mix of excitement and annoyance that always prevailed when Jo wanted to go out and her mother would not let her.

"I don't need you, Jo."

"You do! I promise I will make it worth your while!"

"Now I know you're lying, blondie."

"Dean!"

Dean herd a beep and looked at his phone. Ellen. Shocker.

"Is that my mother calling?" Jo panicked.

"It might be," Dean grinned, "Hold on."

Dean laughed at Jo's squawking as he switched over.

"Hey, Ellen."

"Evening, Dean. I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Do you need Jo to work tomorrow night?"

Hmm. Jo or Ellen? Enduring the wrath of either would be painful.

"I could use the help," he went with.

Ellen sighed. "Alright. Night, Dean."

"Night, Ellen." He switched calls. "Guess who's working tomorrow night."

"Me? You're the best, Dean!"

Dean had run this little game for her before. She would say she was working, instead, Dean worked and she ran out with friends. Harmless really. Dean figured if he didn't help her blow off a little steam, she wouldn't explode from being under her mother's constant eye. Dean opened his mouth for a witty retort, but the line went dead. "Yeah, you're welcome."

He sat his phone down and went back to his article. He had already read the first paragraph twice, but started from the beginning again.

Seconds later, his phone rang again.

"Jeez," Dean dropped the magazine and picked up his phone.

"Yeah, Bobby," Dean answered.

"You got a mess comin' yer way-"

Dean looked up as a man shoved his way through the front door, bell clanging violently, with a large, heavy bundle over his shoulder and a young teen scurrying around him to clear a path.

"That them?" Bobby barked.

"Hope so, or it's really gonna be a long night," Dean answered, heading toward the back door, the man following.

"Be down in a sec," Bobby said, Dean ending the call.

"Well how've you been, Lee?" Dean asked, unlocking the back door and leading them down the steps to the basement.

"Just great."

His daughter, Krissy, looked pale and nervous.

"Krissy, go watch the desk," Dean said.

"No!" She said, eyes wide.

"Krissy, go," her father snapped. She glared at Dean and stomped up the steps.

Dean pushed the fortified, locked door open and flipped the lights on to the weapons room.

"Bobby's coming," Dean said, grabbing one end of the rolled up tarp. "Is this a-"

"Person?" Lee huffed, dropping his end to a large table in the center of the room that Dean used for cleaning and showing guns and weapons. "Yes."

"What the hell, Lee!" Dean grabbed the edge of the tarp and began unwinding the body inside. He paused, hands frozen on the hard plastic. "Is it dead?"

"It wasn't forty miles ago," Lee said, wiping sweat off his forehead and proceeding to unwrap the body.

"Why didn't you take it straight to Bobby's?"

"You were open!" Lee bit back.

Freaking Thursdays. Why did shit always happen on Thursdays?

A man trickled out of the engulfing plastic, limb by limb dropping onto the table.

Dean took in his appearance. Adult, male, suit. "Is this a Fed?"

"No," Lee scoffed.

Dean looked over the slack face, his eyes finding the bloody hole in his side. "Super model?" Dean guessed again.

"What?" Lee pulled the tarp completely away and Bobby walked into the room.

"Lee."

"Bobby."

"S he dead?"

Dean's, fingers were on the man's neck and felt a faint pulse. "No."

"What happened?" Bobby asked, stepping toward the table as Dean unbuttoned the man's shirt to get a better look at the wound.

"He got in the way," Lee stated simply.

"Of what?" Dean asked, seeing bruises down his torso on one side, two deep scratches on his left forearm, and a hastily bandaged and bleeding bullet wound.

"My bullet," Lee shrugged.

"And you brought him here why?" Bobby squinted back.

"He's a Hunter. I don't know him, but he was trying to kill the same werewolf I was after. He's a stealthy little bastard, I never even saw him until it was too late."

"What's his name?" Dean asked, cutting the white dress shirt away. Dean worked quickly, cutting up one sleeve and moving to the next. As he leaned over the body, struggling to get through the seam at the shoulder, he felt a puff of air hit his cheek. Dean looked down and jumped back when two startlingly blue eyes looked back at him.

"Jesus!" Dean all but yelped. "Your Hunter is awake."

Lee and Bobby leaned into the table.

Dean, having jumped away before finishing his cut, was still staring at the man's eyes.

The man blinked several rapid blinks, then a look of pain engulfed his face, his mouth gaping in a silent cry.

"Get him some Morphine!" Dean demanded at Bobby, who snapped into action.

Eyes squinted shut in pain now, the man's jaw gritted shut and he heaved a breath.

"Relax, man," Dean coached, finishing the cut and pulling the fragments of shirt away. "We're gonna help. You're gonna be okay."

Lee and Bobby had a Morphine drip running within minutes.

Dean ripped the bandage away and went quickly to work. Bobby usually took charge of these type of situations, but Dean felt oddly protective of the man.

"I don't know him," Bobby said in a low voice, suspicion thick as tar.

"Yeah, me neither," Dean gritted, pushing the man over slightly to see the exit wound. "No exit? Did you get the bullet out already?"

"No time," Lee said. "We had to get outta there."

Bobby's hand suddenly darted forward, pushing the man a bit further, revealing more of his back.

"Oh shit," Bobby and Dean huffed.

"What?" Lee leaned in, looking.

Bobby's glare at Lee was palpable. Dean laid the man back flat, seeing a dazed look clouding the blue eyes. "Did ya see that tattoo dumbass?" Dean growled.

"Yeah," Lee shrugged.

"You brought a God damned Angel here. Here!" Bobby hissed.

"What?" Lee snapped, stepping back as if he could catch fire just by looking at the crumpled man.

"You dumbshit," Dean shook his head, going back to the wound with a pair of pliers. "What do we do with him, Bobby?"

Bobby paced across the room and back. "Well, he's human. We're going to have to fix him."

The man on the table grinned weakly, his eyes drifting shut. Dean could swear a smirk was tugging at one corner of his mouth.

"Yeah," Dean muttered. "But he's a friggin' Angel. Let's patch him up and drop him off somewhere."

"Ya coulda left him at a hospital," Bobby grumbled, taking the bloody mess of rags Dean handed him.

"He's a Hunter!" Lee defended, voice raising and hands balling into fists. "I shot him! How was I supposed to know he was an Angel!"

"Were you followed?" Bobby asked with obvious disgust.

"Of course not. Jesus, Bobby."

Dean tuned the bickering pair out. Shit happened on a hunt. Mistakes were made. What Dean needed most was the slippery bullet he currently had one fingertip on. Three knuckles deep into the wound, he snagged the bullet and pulled it free, blood spurting like a damn fountain. "Shut up and help me," Dean snapped.

Lee jumped in, letting Dean re-group and go back in to cauterize with gunpowder and his trusty zippo. The wound flared, the room filling with the smell of burnt flesh, and the blue eyes were open again, hands flailing and legs kicking.

"Hold him down!" Bobby jumped back in applying pressure while Dean pinned his upper body.

The man's eyes were wild and he was much stronger than he had any right to be.

"It's okay!" Dean called out, pressing him back into the table with all he had. "Relax before you rip open what I just fixed!"

Dean locked eyes with him. "Breathe! And relax, damn it!" Their faces were mere inches apart and Dean licked his lips. "Come on man, relax," Dean coaxed. He felt the muscles relax, tremors running fitfully through him.

The blue eyes focused and blinked slower. "You're killing me!" Came a deep rumbling, broken voice, lower than Dean had expected.

"We're not killing you." Dean relaxed his grip while Bobby and Lee worked madly behind him to finish stitching.

"That fucking hurts," he growled, his eyes hardening to a glare.

"Aw, come on, you never been shot before?" Dean smirked.

"No." The man panted, fighting not to writhe under the continued pain.

"Hurry up, Bobby," Dean said quietly, his eyes still locked onto the crystal blue death rays piercing into him. "What's your name?"

The man huffed. "Fuck you."

"Fuck you?" Dean said, shock coloring his voice and he fought not to laugh. "You bleed all over my shit, I save your life, and you get hostile?"

The man's chin tipped up, eyes going cold and his lips pressed into a flat, firm line.

"Freakin' Angels," Dean muttered. He had never actually met one. But this guy was living up to all the hype.

"If you're going to kill me, you might as well do it and quit sticking me with that needle."

Dean looked over his shoulder at Bobby, who was tying off the last stitch. "He thinks we're going to kill him," Dean whispered.

"By all rights, we should." Bobby's voice disappeared, but his lips read, "He can't be here!"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Nobody's killing any Hunters."

The blue eyes softened and he took a huff of a big breath. "Please," his hand grasped painfully tight to Dean's upper arm. "Please don't take me back." Fear flitted across the stubborn face, then his mouth pressed back into that stubborn, firm line.

"Take you back where?" Dean asked quietly. "You won't be going anywhere for a day or two anyway. Look man, just breathe and relax."

The iron grip on his upper arm relaxed, his hand dropping to the table and his eyes rolled shut, mouth going slack.

Dean looked over his shoulder again, seeing Lee pull a needle out of the hastily erected IV.

Eyes back to the sleeping face, Dean could see that the man was strikingly handsome. Bet he always got away with the FBI gigs. His hair was matted and stuck to his head with sweat. Even so, he was attractive.

"You can let go, Dean," Bobby chided, "He ain't goin' anywhere."

Dean jumped back, hands sticky with drying blood.

He joined Lee at the sink, scrubbing his hands clean.

"He'll be out the rest of the night," Lee muttered. "Should I have just let the guy bleed out? He knew what he was doing. He was obviously a Hunter. I figured he was one of us. How was I supposed to know he was a damn Angel?"

"You shoulda stopped at a damn motel like every other Hunter, sewn him up and left him," Bobby growled, slamming a soggy pile of bloody rags on the counter with a squelch.

"Gross, Bobby," Dean barked, pulling big yellow gloves on to start handling the clean up. "Where ya puttin' him? He can't hang out here in the weapons room."

"You get Sam, Dean. Take him to apartment C, keep the curtains closed. Have Sam sit with him, you have a shop to run. Lee, you clean up."

Dean smirked and Lee rolled his eyes. Dean peeled off the gloves and tossed them at Lee.

Dean banged on Sam's apartment door. It was a small two bedroom with a full kitchen. It was above the bookshop and came with the job of bookkeeper. Dean banged again. "I'm comin'," Sam's muffled voice pierced the quiet of the old building. The door whipped open and Sam was pulling on boots. "What?"

"Lee Chambers and his kid rolled into town an hour ago and brought us a wounded Hunter."

"Who's the Hunter?" Sam asked, pulling his jacket on and the door shut as they jogged down the narrow stairwell.

Dean stopped at the door at the foot of the steps before going out the back door to the back of the building. "He accidentally got friendly fire from Lee. They didn't know they were taggin' the same werewolf."

"So," Sam shrugged, "Who is it?"

Dean hesitated but rushed on. "Keep it just between us, but he's an Angel."

Sam stared at him wide eyed. "For real? Lee brought an Angel here?"

"Didn't know until we were sewing his bullet wound shut. Bobby wants you to sit with him through the night in Apartment C."

"Me? I'm the only Hunter the Angels have a target on, Dean!"

"And you're probably the only Hunter here who won't just kill him for being an Angel."

"Oh, come on! That's bullshit!"

Dean shrugged. "Bobby's orders."

Sam rolled his eyes and swung his hair in annoyance. "Whatever."

Dean led the way to the weapons room and the scene of carnage. After much shuffling and debating, they got the Hunter onto a sheet and tandem carried him across the alley to the apartment building, where Bobby waited with the key.

"When he wakes up, you tell him NOTHING," Bobby warned.

Sam nodded and they gently lowered him onto a bed.

"Cuffs. And let me know when he's awake," Bobby sighed.

"Alright," Sam said.

"I'll be at the shop if ya need anything," Dean added as they left Sam with the Angel.

Dean walked into his record store through the back door and found Krissy asleep at the counter. He nudged her, getting the reaction he expected as she jolted upward, eyes wide and a knife suddenly in her hand.

"Easy, Thunder," Dean chuckled, handing her a key. "Apartment D. Go to bed."

"Where's the Hunter?" She asked, scanning the empty store.

"Resting. And your dad is cleaning up downstairs. Go sleep while ya can."

She nodded and left through the back door. Krissy was a real piece of work. Much like her dad. Dean had met her when she called and asked for help when her dad went missing on a hunt. Dean and Sam had saved the pair of them, but not before she and Dean had formed a love/hate relationship. He knew deep down she had a soft spot for him, like he did for her. Any kid growing up on the road with a Hunter dad automatically got a pass with Dean. Not that he would tell her that. Smart-ass teenager that she was.

Dean took his seat behind the counter. He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands. He could not stop seeing those blue eyes. He wanted to know more about the Angel. He was everything he expected from meeting one and at the same time, nothing at all.

By 9:00am, Jo was in the shop to relieve Dean from his all-nighter. He trudged across the alley to the apartment building, used his key to unlock the front door and climbed the steps to apartment C.

He let himself in, heading back the short hall to the bedroom to check on Sam.

"Nice," Dean muttered at the scene before him. Sam sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, legs stretched out and head slumped onto his chest fast asleep. The Angel had stopped moving, but Dean could see he had one of the zip ties around his wrist almost worn through. Those blue eyes shined out at Dean with a look of worry, annoyance, and defeat.

"Goin' somewhere, Sunshine?"

No answer from the bound man. Dean snagged a zip tie from the dresser and approached the bed. "You can't get out of here. But if you play your cards right, you will eventually get out of here alive."

Dean pulled a knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. The Hunter's eyes were steady and he had to give him credit for not flinching a bit. He cut the worn zip tie, letting the arm free while he watched him closely.

The man pulled his arm in, flexing his elbow and wrist several times. His hand scratched at his hair where it looked like dried blood was matting it down.

"Please, I need a shower. And to use the bathroom."

Dean smirked. "Think I was born yesterday, Angel?"

The guy's eyes closed in frustration, his hand gingerly feeling at the clean bandages.

Dean debated with himself. The guy really did need cleaned up. But he didn't trust him for a second. He glanced over at Sam's sleeping form. It would serve him right to wake up and find an empty bed. He chuckled softly at the thought of Sam freaking out.

"Alright. Bathroom break. But I will kill you if you try anything."

The man's eyes opened, a small look of relief tinging the handsome features.

Dean cut the other three zip ties and put the unused one back on the dresser. The man rolled painfully to his good side and struggled to sit upright. Dean had to steady him with a hand on his shoulder. He helped him up, wishing the guy had a shirt on so he could stop touching all that bare skin. He really needed to get out more. If a man's naked torso was doing something for him, he really needed to get laid. By a chick. Because that's what he does. Chicks. Dean rolled his eyes at his own thoughts as he helped the guy walk the short trek to the bathroom. His weakness and pain could not be faked. The guy quivered in his arm at the exertion of walking even that little bit. Every change of position made him pale and break out into a sweat. He sat him on the toilet and stepped back.

"You gonna puke?"

The man whispered no.

"You gonna pass out?"

"No."

Dean stepped back, not willing to leave the bathroom, but turned his back and pulled his phone out. He slid down his contacts, selecting Chuck.

"Hey Chuck, I need a guys size medium t-shirt, socks, underwear and jeans size..."

He glanced back at the guy now sitting to pee. "26x32," he muttered, not looking at Dean.

"Jeans size 26x32. Bathroom kit and a coat. He glanced down at the guys shoes. Dress shoes to go with his dress pants and nice button-down shirt Dean had cut to hell.

"A pair of size... 12 shoes. Bring it to apartment C."

Chuck gave a quick affirmative and hung up.

"Shower?" Dean asked.

"Please."

Dean started the water and tried not to look and tried to touch him minimally as the guy stood part-way in the shower, avoiding getting his bandage wet. Dean handed him a washcloth and stepped back. Hearing a sudden thunk and scuffle from the bedroom, Dean laughed.

Sam ripped the door open to a face full of Dean.

"Shit!" Sam said, visibly deflating as he looked over Dean's shoulder, seeing his prisoner.

"Yeah. And he had one tie almost broken through ya dumbass."

Sam palmed his forehead, wincing. He walked away, Dean closing the door again.

Dean glanced over his shoulder, seeing the guys shaky hands lather the washcloth and start washing.

"What's your name?" Dean asked. "I mean last time I shared shower space with someone, I at least knew their name."

The guy paused in his scrubbing and answered flatly, "Jimmy."

Dean dialed Chuck again.

"Almost ready," Chuck answered.

"Bring some sweatpants too."

"Right."

Dean hung up. The guy was a mess. Jimmy. Yeah right. He knew when he was being lied to.

"So, Jimmy, where you from?"

No answer. Dean turned back to see 'Jimmy' slumping down the wall of the shower.

"Whoa, whoa, there," Dean soothed, catching him before he hit the floor. His face was impossibly pale and when his eyes fluttered open, the blue gems inside rolled. "Breathe, buddy."

Jimmy gasped a breath and strained to get his feet under him. Before Dean could think, he hugged the guy to him, taking his weak frame in his arms. The soap had him slippery, so Dean pushed a knee between the guys legs for added support.

His head lay heavy and soaking wet on his shoulder.

"I can't wash my hair," came the faintest, most pathetic voice. Dean grimaced at his own crumbling fortitude.

"I got you," he said quietly, reaching a hand into the mop of dark brown, spreading the shampoo and massaging it into his scalp. He felt the man sigh.

"M sorry," he muttered.

"Don't worry about it," Dean muttered back, tipping himself into the warm water and rinsing the best he could, his own t-shirt, jeans and left shoe soaked.

The guy sputtered slightly and wiped weakly at his face.

"Good enough?" Dean asked.

"Yes."

Dean shut the water off and grabbed a towel. He pinned the Angel to the wall again and pressed one hand to his chest to hold him upright. Knee between his legs again, Dean did his damnedest to ignore the balls brushing against his knee.

"I'm okay," Jimmy slurred.

"Yeah, you're friggin' He-man." Dean dried the guys abs, trying to keep the bandage dry, then scrubbed at his hair.

Color eased into his cheeks and he took a steadying breath, clamping a hand weakly onto Dean's shoulder.

"I'm okay. You can back up."

Dean inched away slowly, not letting go completely and helped the guy back to bed. Sam, being the girl he is, had changed the pillowcase on the bed. Dean helped him under the covers and took a deep breath when there was finally several layers of material between them.

Lying flat, Jimmy's color began returning much quicker. His eyes gained focus and he covered his forehead with one shaky hand. "Sorry," he whispered.

Dean smirked. "I bet. If ya wanted to get ta know me better, you coulda just invited me out ta dinner."

The blue eyes locked onto his in a kind of awed embarrassment.

"Chuck's here," Sam called from the living room. "You two decent?" Sam snickered.

Dean rolled his eyes and waved Chuck into the bedroom. "Whachya got?"

Chuck plopped a full bag onto the foot of the bed, eyeing the man lying there.

"Everything you asked for. Jeans might be a tad loose, but beggars can't be choosers."

Dean nodded. "Alright, thanks," he waved, shewing Chuck out of the room and shutting the door. He rifled through the bag and tossed boxers, sweatpants and a t-shirt onto the side of the bed.

Jimmy grabbed the boxers, pulling them under the covers to put them on. Dean helped him sit up and he pulled the sweatpants and t-shirt into place.

"Don't run off," Dean chuckled as he left the room for the bathroom to get two cups of water.

"Toothbrush," Dean offered. He watched as Jimmy brushed his teeth, spitting into one cup and drinking from the other. A quick swipe of deodorant and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Feel better?" Dean asked after dumping the cups and bringing him fresh water to drink.

He guzzled the water and sat it on the nightstand. "So much. Thank you."

"Jimmy," Dean said softly, watching the guy lay back and settle into the covers.

"Yeah?"

"When you're ready to tell me your real name, then we can really talk."

Blue eyes gave him a slightly pleading look, but he nodded.

"Goodnight, Dean," the Angel murmured, exhaustion sweeping him away.

Dean huffed a soft laugh. He gathered the towel and took his sopping wet self out to the living room.

Chuck was gone and Sam sat at the small kitchen table. "What was all that about, Dean?"

"All what?" Dean snapped defensively.

Sam raised a hand, gesturing at his state of wet clothing.

"The guy stunk! He needed a shower! You wanna start some shit, Sam?"

Sam raised both hands defensively in surrender.

The door opened and Bobby walked in.

"How's the Angel? And what the hell happened to you?"

Dean grit his teeth slightly. "The Angel is sleeping. Got him to the bathroom and showered and now he's out. It was a pretty rough go. I didn't cuff him because he's too weak to go anywhere."

"Uh-huh," Bobby said, much more meaning behind the tiny phrase. "Well, let's see what he has to say for himself."

"Whoa!" Dean snapped as he stepped in front of Bobby, blocking his way. "Let him alone for now. He did all he could do to get cleaned up and now he's out like a light. Let him be, Bobby."

Bobby squinted, summing something up in Dean's face. "Alright, hoss, your Angel can get his beauty sleep for now."

Dean rolled his eyes and left the apartment. He crossed the alley and into the back door of his shop. He went up the narrow steps to his own above-store apartment. He stripped out of his wet clothes and took a quick shower. Blue eyes, soft brown hair and that low voice saying his name filled his sleep deprived mind. Finally hitting the softness of his own mattress, he fell asleep as quickly as the new stranger had.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2. Jimmy Speaks

Castiel blinked slowly into consciousness. The pillow was softer than his familiar foam at home. Home. A bitter taste filled his mouth and he tried valiantly to open his eyes. Home was gone. He had left. He had been chased ruthlessly until he finally lost them. Angels were few, but their resources were vast. The room he was in was dingy and dated. The bedding was clean and looked like it had seen one too many washes. Castiel's hand slid to run tentative fingers over the bandage on his abdomen. He had been hunting a werewolf. He was supposed to be hiding but couldn't leave well-enough alone. The Hunter had been stealthy enough that he had not even seen him. And visa versa. He had been shot. He had drug him to a beat up car and to a terrible motel where he and a child had attempted to care for him. He had feigned greater pain to avoid talking but did admit he was a Hunter. At some point after that they traveled west for what seemed like an eternity. He assumed he was somewhere in Minnesota or South Dakota. He was at some sort of Hunter meeting place. He had met three so far, maybe four. They were a rough group, like he had been taught, and he feared most that they would torture him for information. He would die before he gave up his Angel family, even if they had given up on him.

He had questioned orders, broken rank and suffered the wrath of being shunned. He had no home. Not anymore.

Someone made noise in the hall and he tugged his shirt back down, lying still so not to startle anyone. A thin red head peeked into the room. Her skin was pale and she reminded him of Anna.

"He's awake," she turned and said softly.

Footsteps preceded the burly man who seemed to be in charge.

He came into the small room with a plate holding a slim, sad looking sandwich. He sat it and a new glass of water on the nightstand. They eyed each other warily as the man sat in the chair.

"What's your name?"

Castiel swallowed dryly, glancing at the plate. "Jimmy."

"Now that just don't add up. I never heard of an Angel with a normal name."

Castiel looked at him sharply. So they did know. Of course they did. His tattoo had surely given him away. "The tattoo?"

The man nodded, adjusting his baseball hat. Castiel sunk as deep into the bed as he could go, closing his eyes. He did not need to eat. He could just disappear without hurting anyone.

The man (Bobby, he heard the red head call him) kept asking questions and Castiel kept his eyes closed. He did not know or trust this man. He felt the covers be dragged off of him and two sets of hands pulled him out of bed and into the chair. His wrists were bound and his ankles. The same woozy head-spin set in and he drug air in, attempting to stay conscious.

"Who are you? Why were you in Cleveland hunting that werewolf?"

The voice was iron strong and wreaked of hatred. He cracked his eyes open to see a blonde man with beady eyes circling him like he was roadkill.

"Ease up, Kubrick," Bobby said sighing.

Kubrick gave Bobby an incredulous look. "Ease up? He's a gang thug. An Angel. We need information!"

Castiel hated to admit it, but the man scared him. He was angry and circling as if to attack.

"Please," Castiel whispered. It was the first thing he had said since he was laying in bed. "I can not tell you anything. I will die first."

Hatred flared in Kubrick's eyes and face. "See!" He pointed, drilling the finger into his chest.

"But I am no enemy of any Hunter!" Castiel gasped.

"Sure," Kubrick hissed in his face. The finger drug downward and pressed into the wound that was so painful already. White light flared behind his eyes and he screamed out in pain.

"Who are you?" Kubrick screamed in his face.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Snarled a voice that gave Castiel a panicky sliver of hope.

"Dean!" Castiel cried out, panting from the new pain and fighting with all his might to not lose consciousness.

Dean snatched Kubrick up from behind, spinning the man out of the room and down the hall. Bobby watched him a moment, rubbing his beard.

"Keep your hands off!" Dean yelled from the other room.

"Why? He's our enemy! We finally have our hands on an Angel and I for one-"

"You nothin'! You keep your freakin hands and opinions to yourself."

Dean came into the room again, eyes on Castiel's. He knelt down in front of Castiel who was still panting from the pain. One of Dean's hands rested on his knee firm and warm.

"Bobby, what the hell?" He said, standing and turning to the older man.

"I didn't think he was gonna go that far," Bobby flailed a hand out. "Besides, Dean, he is our enemy." The pair shared an intense glare, communicating something beyond Castiel's understanding.

Castiel felt warm blood trickling down his abdomen. Wonderful. A loud tone sounded in his ears and black began eating away at his vision. His breathing was labored and he gasped for air.

"Damnit," Dean said softly from somewhere next to him. "Does he look like he can do anything? Give you anything? Jesus, Bobby."

The cool medal of a knife blade slid briefly along his hand until the ties were cut and his arms fell heavily to his sides.

"Hang in there, man," Dean said. He felt himself be lifted from the chair and put in bed. The thudding in his ears immediately softened and he gasped for another breath, feeling steadier.

"He musta lost too much blood yesterday. I can barely keep him conscious, let alone get information out of him. No one touches him but me!"

"Dean!" Bobby snapped.

"Bobby!" Dean bit back.

Silence filled the room and Castiel focused on breathing. The ringing and thudding in his ears was gone, the blackness faded away and he could breath again.

It was as if the universe were against him, being caught by such a group. If not for Dean, he would truly be in hell.

"Has he eaten?"

"No."

"Drank?"

"No."

"So we torture humans now. That's who we are?" Dean demanded.

"No, Dean," Bobby said softly, sounding disappointed in himself. "But there are things we need to know."

"Like what?" Dean spat.

"Like who he is. Does he know us? Is he after-" he jerked his thumb toward the doorway.

"Fine!" Dean waved him off. "I will find out whatever we need to know."

The two exchanged a look again. "Fine," Bobby said resolutely, "but I'm sending him in."

Dean sat on the side of the bed, his eyes on Castiel again. "Let's try to prop you up a bit and get some water in you, okay?"

Castiel's world splintered. He would die for this man. And he would tell him almost anything. Almost. Maybe everything. Those green eyes were sharp, smart and intense. He looked at Castiel like he was a person. Not like the others here, like he was poisonous, or like his family, like he was useless and a traitor.

He wanted to give Dean everything and anything. He had taken the time to let him use the bathroom, washed his hair, seen him naked. He had held him down and carried him to safety. Castiel swallowed thickly and beat back the onslaught of emotion. It had been such a bad week, he rationalized. Epically bad. And Dean was just being nice. He had to keep himself together and survived this. So he could be alone and on the streets again.

A sorrow so profound washed over him.

"Shit," Dean murmured. "Jimmy, or whatever, you're bleeding again."

Castiel felt his shirt lift and the steady, warm hands on his skin. He did not have the strength to care. His life was so screwed anyway.

"Here," came another voice, Sam, the one who was sleeping at the foot of his bed in the chair this morning.

He felt the blood being wiped away.

"It needs re-stitched at the bottom," The tall man said quietly.

"Not today. Maybe tomorrow. This guy needs to rest. And eat."

The bandage was changed and Dean rubbed his hand back and forth over his chest. "Hey buddy, come on, time to wake up."

Castiel reached up, his fingers wrapping around the wrist. He wished he could push all the love and thankfulness he felt through his hand and into Dean's. Instead, he squeezed gently and opened his eyes.

"Thank you," Castiel muttered, not quite meeting Dean's penetrating stare.

Dean pulled the guy forward and put extra pillows behind him, propping him up a bit. He looked so small, pale and sad. A broken man.

"Sam, get him some real food, would ya?"

Sam started to move, but the angel held up a hand. "No, the sandwich will be fine."

Sam's eyebrows lifted in small surprise and he sat back in the chair watchful.

Dean handed the plate to the man and watched as he took a tentative bite. He seemed to savor it, his eyes closing.

"Dude, it's just peanut butter and jelly," Dean grinned.

"Mm, I love peanut butter and jelly."

Dean grinned further. The guy just seemed so...thankful.

"So," Dean shifted slightly, feeling suddenly like maybe he was sitting too close, "what do we call you? Jimmy?"

The man swallowed and his eyes opened again. "My name is Castiel."

"Now that sounds like an Angel name if ever I heard one," he smirked.

Castiel proceeded to eat the sandwich one tiny bite at a time and drank all the water in one go.

"Castiel," Dean said, feeling the name in his mouth like a new creation, "can you tell us more about who you are?"

Castiel handed the empty plate back and pressed his lips into that flat line, looking timid and lost.

"I was an Angel. But I have been...shunned. Banished. I was on a hunt in Cleveland when I accidentally got in the way of your friend."

"So you were hunting a werewolf? Kinda low priority for an Angel, isn't it?" Dean pressed.

"I am a fallen Angel. I no longer have ties or intel. I was just out on my own and all I know is hunting. So, I started hunting."

Dean nodded. "And the Angels just...let you go?"

A bitter smile slid across the tired man's face. "No. They are hunting me. Being banished is only the first step. Being stripped of rights and rank, then they kill you."

Dean glanced back at Sam, who was listening just as aptly. Usually Sam would be all over this kind of thing. Trying to learn more. But he was sitting back, making Dean take the lead.

"Are you familiar with Azazel?" Dean said, deciding not to beat around the bush too long.

Castiel squinted in thought. "Yes. He's a demon." His eyes went from Dean's to Sam's. "A first order demon. Why?"

Dean glanced back at Sam, but got no cue to give out more information or not. "We killed him."

"You did?" Castiel looked surprised.

"We did. And apparently that pissed off the Angels. They seem to think they have jurisdiction on demons. So they have a kill order on the Hunter that killed him."

"Oh," Castiel said in a small voice. "I see. So, you want to know if I would carry out that order?"

Dean shrugged, their eyes meeting.

"I would never kill a Hunter, Dean. I have left the Angels for a reason." He looked down at his hands.

Dean reached forward, putting his hand on Castiel's fidgeting hands. "You're safe here, Cas. Just let me talk to the others." Dean felt Castiel's fingers still and one crooked to slide against his hand. "Just keep a low profile."

Castiel nodded, eyes locking on his in more than a puppy-dog pull and Dean pulled his hand back, blushing. What the hell? He was blushing!

He stood up abruptly, gathering the dirty dishes. "I'll be back."

He stood to leave, nodding his head toward the door, telling Sam to follow him.

In the living room, Bobby sat at the table brooding. Kubrick was gone. Thanks for small fucking favors.

"Find out anything?" Bobby asked sarcastically, sitting his short glass of rotgut on the table with a thud.

"Yeah, actually," Dean answered, trying to keep his self-righteousness to a minimum.

"Well? Spill, boy!"

Dean took the dishes to the sink, washing them. "His name is Castiel. He did something that got him kicked out, only before they could take the last step and off him, he bolted. So, he WAS an Angel and now they are hunting him."

"Huh," Bobby grunted.

"If it's worth anything," Sam added in his honey infused voice he used for soothing hot-tempered conversations like this one, "I think he's telling the truth."

Bobby stood up as Dean dried his hands off. His eyes narrowed and searched Dean's face suspiciously. "What's gotten into you, Dean?"

"Me?" Dean dodged, "I'm not the one interrogating people in a back bedroom!"

"Dean," Sam warned, "You are getting attached to this guy, like, really fast."

Bobby and Sam exchanged a look.

"The dude's in bad shape!" Dean defended.

"I'll check for hex bags or cursed items," Bobby said, ignoring Dean.

"I'll check the books. A spell or potion maybe," Sam added as the two headed for the door, ignoring Dean.

"Where are you going?" Dean demanded.

"We're going to check this guy out," Bobby explained like Dean was 2 years old. "Cause you ain't actin' normal and I don't trust the guy yet."

"So I gotta stay here?" Dean scoffed.

Bobby turned, just before pulling the door shut. "I could ask Kubrick to come back up."

Dean glared and Bobby smirked. "Who would you leave with him?"

"You, Sam, Charlie, hell, any Keeper!" Dean yelled, Bobby giving him a calculating look before he pulled the door shut.

Alone, Dean paced the living room. Was he hexed? Cursed? Under a spell? He didn't feel like it. Of course, no one ever did. There was something different about Castiel. But Dean knew deep down in his Hunter bones that Castiel meant them no harm. He just wanted to be a Hunter. It wasn't even his fault he was here!

Back to the kitchen counter, he went about thawing and frying two pieces of liver. He did his best to improve the flavor. Some instant potatoes and broccoli. It was high in iron and Castiel needed it badly.

He took the plate to the bedroom. Castiel was sound asleep. His hair was a mess and his face looked pinched in uneasy dreams or pain. But his color was better.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said, sitting on the side of the bed and seeing those blue eyes open.

"Dean," Castiel grit out in a wrecked, tired voice that made Dean's insides twist. He blinked and pulled himself up a bit.

"Hey," Dean grinned at the sleepy face. "I made you dinner. This should help boost your red blood cells and have you on your feet by tomorrow."

"Dean," Castiel said with reverence, taking the plate with wide eyes. "Thank you."

"No problem," Dean waved a hand. He went to the kitchen to get his own plate and two drinks. Back to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed, facing Castiel.

Castiel was working diligently at cutting the meat. After the sixth bite, Dean could not stand watching him struggle any more.

"Gimme that," Dean said, taking the plate and cutting the meat.

"This is ridiculous, I'm so sorry," Castiel twisted his mouth and his head dropped down in frustration.

"Come on, ya damn near died yesterday. So you need some help. It's no big deal."

Dean laid the plate back in his lap, meat cut.

They ate silently, exchanging glances every now and then.

Dean heard the door to the apartment open and a hesitant knock on the bedroom door. Dean took the empty plates and headed out to the hall.

"Hey Charlie."

"Is he up? Or awake?" She tried peeking over Dean's shoulder and stepped back, eyes widening.

Dean turned to see Castiel standing behind him.

"Bathroom," Castiel said quietly and Dean stepped aside to let him teeter by.

"You trust him not to run?" Charlie whispered.

"Yeah, he's good," Dean said, taking the dishes out to the kitchen. But he did keep an ear attuned to the bathroom. He might like the guy, but he was no dummy.

"He's handsome! Did you see those eyes? Oh, well, of course you did. I guess you've seen it all! Heard you showered him earlier!"

"Damn Sam and his big mouth," Dean swore. "Don't make it a thing. It's not a thing!"

Charlie shrugged and a giant smile leapt to her mouth as Castiel came out of the bathroom.

"Hello," he said, looking slightly bashful, which was...fucking adorable. Fucking hell.

"Hi! I'm Charlie!" She waved. "I'd hug ya, but I don't want to-" she waved both hands at his general torso.

Castiel nodded. "It's nice to meet you Charlie, I'm Castiel."

"Castiel. Hmph. Angel of Thursday?"

"Yes," Castiel agreed but looked uncomfortable with it.

"Cool! So do you have like 6 siblings for the other days of the week?" Charlie giggled.

A sober look crossed Castiel's face. "Yes."

"Oh," Charlie stuttered to a halt.

"Alright, Charlie," Dean warned.

"Right, anyway! I brought extra socks and boxers from Chuck. Need anything else, Castiel?"

"No, thank you. You all have been more than generous."

Charlie nodded. "So, I will be back in a few hours to check on you two. Want me to bring a movie?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed.

The evening passed with Castiel napping and drinking what seemed to Dean like enough for five men. He ate anything Dean offered him with quiet repose.

They watched, Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull, which was Charlie's favorite and Castiel said he had never seen.

When she left, Dean felt somewhat awkward. "So, I will take the couch and you can get a good night's sleep."

Castiel stood from the couch gingerly. "Dean," he hesitated in stepping toward the bedroom, "why are you being so good to me? You seem...you seem to feel differently towards me than the others do."

"Ah," Dean blew it off, "they'll come around. Just get some rest, Cas."

Castiel nodded, looking down. "Thank you, for saving my life and for helping me."

In that moment, Castiel looked small and defeated again. It tugged at Dean in a way that his calloused wall rarely allowed. He wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be fine, but that was more than he would do for most anyone else in this situation. He grabbed the small pile of clothes Charlie had brought and jerked his thumb back toward the bedroom, egging Castiel to take the steps in that direction.

"Here's a new t-shirt, since that one has some blood on it."

Castiel took the dark grey t-shirt and dropped it onto the bed. He pulled his soiled one off and Dean got a full look at the wing tattoo that had given him away as an Angel. Black wings stretched across the top of his shoulders with feathers going down the back of his upper arms. They weren't pretty. They were menacing, gorgeous and kind of bad-ass. An anti-posession tattoo sat just above the meeting of the wings at his spine, coming up the back of his neck a bit. Four blue feathers fringed the bottom of the black feathers. As the new t-shirt slid down over the wings and smooth skin, the top of the anti-posession tattoo peeked out at the collar. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets when an image of his hands caressing those wings flashed through his mind. He never wanted to touch Sam's tattoos or Bobby's or Charlie's or Jo's, so why was he feeling like this? Maybe he was being hexed.

He mutely took the t-shirt Castiel handed him when he turned around.

"Could I maybe get some pain medication?" Castiel asked.

"Yeah," Dean sputtered into gear. "Of course!" He hauled ass to the kitchen and was back in a minute with water and a cup of liquid Morphine. Bonus for Hunter services was they got meds not legalized in the States.

Castiel tipped the tiny cup to his lips, swallowing and Dean watched the rise and fall of his Adam's apple. He better call Sam and see if he or Bobby had found anything.

"Good night, Dean," Castiel said, sitting on the bed and pulling his feet under the thin blankets.

"Night, Cas." He flipped the light off and went out to the living room.

Sitting on the couch, he pulled his phone out and called Sam.

"Any hexes or spells?"

"Not that I can find," Sam said, hours of reading dragging through his voice. "Why? Something happen?"

"No," Dean said quickly. "He's out for the night and I just wondered if ya got anything."

"Nothing. Bobby either. Might just be a crush on your part," Sam snickered.

"Please," Dean scoffed. "You guys are ridiculous. And you guys are never happy by the way. I'm either a jerk or too nice."

"Dean," Sam said, a laugh barely staved, "the last Hunter that came through your door bleeding, you patched him up and made him clean his own blood up!"

"That was different!" Dean defended. "That was Gordon. Gordon can deal. And he can kiss my ass too. Bastard bled the whole way through the store, down the steps and all over the weapons room. It looked like a damn crime scene."

"Uh-huh," Sam laughed.

"Whatever. Night, Bitch."

"So, you sleeping on the couch or are you two gonna snuggle?"

"Fuck you, Sam. You know me better than that. I ain't 'snuggling'."

"Yeah. Yet. Night, Jerk."

Dean ended the call and made a bed on the couch. He hadn't seen his store or checked in all day with Jo. That wasn't like him. He was usually pretty controlling about his shop. He decided not to check in with Jo. He was sure that she was pissed because she actually did end up working Friday night. Surely that had tanked her plans. And her attitude.

Maybe he was hexed. It wouldn't be the first time. And this would definitely be the first time he was not only going out on a limb for a stranger, but having thoughts like he was having, about a guy, was certainly a first. Dean thought about the tattoo of black feathers and that smooth skin. The feel of his hand wrapped around his wrist. His silky hair, wet and sliding through his fingers. Dean groaned out loud, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was all Bobby's fault. Cage Dean Winchester and this is what you get. He just needed to get out. And get laid. Damn.

Castiel lay in the bed with a warm, fuzzy feeling creeping through his mind and body. The Morphine was bliss to the burning ache in his abdomen and Dean was a refreshing breeze on his bottled-up heart and soul. Castiel was not sure, but he thought he might really have an ally in Dean. Dean, with his penetrating green eyes, perfect hair, ass-hugging-just-right jeans and kind, warm hands. He wished Dean had not seen him weak and fainting in the shower. Naked and exposed and afraid of dying. If only he had met him on a hunt when he was strong and smiting demons. Of course then they may have been enemies. No, that was not right. They would never be enemies.

Pain ebbed away and sleep swallowed him whole.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3. A Keeper's Vow

Saturday morning brought its typical hustle and bustle. It was March, not a particularly lucrative time of year. Dean had sold $117 on in-store sales and $3,743 over the phone in weapons sales. Dean's shop brought more money in than the bookstore, electronics and thrift shop combined. It was the nature of what he sold downstairs and his excellent availability of anything you could want on a hunt. He used a third party purveyor he met once a month in Iowa, Bela, and she kept him stocked better than anyone in the country. She was a Watcher and knew Dean from his days as a Hunter.

They were scheduled to meet in four days, and Dean was already counting on what was in her shipment. And Sam was waiting on several ingredients from her as well.

Being a Keeper, a good Keeper, actually kept the brothers on their toes a lot more than they had ever thought it would.

Jo walked into the store, leaning onto the counter, watching a group of teens at the record bins. "Need me tonight?"

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me about whoever it is you guys have squirreled away in the apartment?"

Dean smirked. Jo was too young to have the responsibilities and movements of a Keeper, but in every other sense of the word, she was one.

"Don't give me that cocky grin, Winchester, that doesn't work on me."

"When Bobby says to tell you, Jo, I'll tell you. Otherwise, no dice."

She looked at him fully, eyes mirthful. "I heard you got super protective of whoever is up there and you got mouthy with Bobby."

"And you heard that where?" Dean said, his humor dissipating.

"Kubrick."

Dean leaned forward, locking onto her light brown eyes, "Jo, Kubrick is a fucking nut. You keep your distance from him."

She frowned softly. "I know. But did you really fight with Bobby?"

"Not really." Dean's eyes drifted over to the group of teens now looking at CD's. "Bobby and I are fine. Kubrick was the one fuckin' shit up."

Jo nodded slightly, looking relieved. "So, when do you want me in?"

"Might as well stay," Dean sighed, grabbing his keys from under the counter.

Jo sat on the stool next to him. She was so young, Dean thought suddenly. Yet, they expected everything from her.

"I promise I will tell you about him as soon as I can," Dean said.

Jo cocked her head in surprise, "Him? I thought it was a chick from the way Kubrick talked."

"Well, he's definitely a he."

Dean headed up to his apartment to grab some clothes and a movie. He was anxious to get back to the apartment. He trotted down the steps, across the alley, and up the steps to apartment C.

He opened the door to Sam and Bobby sitting at the table.

"Hey," he tossed their way.

"Dean!" Sam jumped up, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine..." Dean answered, seeing the suspicious looks on their faces.

"Shaky? Sweaty? Any fever or nausea?"

"No, Doc Hollywood."

"Did you have trouble concentrating?" Bobby asked.

"No. But I am having trouble taking you seriously. Would you two chill already?"

"Yeah, well, we're gonna need some blood before we can 'chill'." Bobby held out a knife and a small silver bowl.

"Seriously? Of course you're serious," he muttered. He sat his bag down and stepped up to the table. "I take it you two found nothing then."

"No," Sam agreed. "This will rule out any potions and several types of hexes though."

"Wonderful," Dean muttered, cutting into the palm of his hand and letting the blood pool in the small bowl.

Sam whisked the bowl away and dropped something purple into it. Grey smoke rose from it. He added a small vile of blood. Nothing.

"Whose blood is that?" Dean asked, an uncomfortable knot forming in his gut.

"Castiel's," Sam said off-handed.

Dean grit his teeth. "You cut him or just reopen some stitches and bleed him out?"

Sam turned two startled brown eyes on him. "What? No! I mean...I asked him and he let me take some blood."

Dean nodded, disgusted. "And your diagnosis?"

"A big squat of nothin'," Bobby said testily. "No hexes, spells, potions, relics. I guess you just have a thing for the guy."

"I don't have a thing! You two are a pain in the ass, ya know that?" Dean pressed a paper towel to the new cut on his hand. "I'm glad you checked, but really all I did was stop Kubrick from being a douchebag. It's not the first time I've done that either."

"You're right," Sam said, cleaning up the blood experiments. "We just saw...well, you looked at him not like you usually look at people, let alone strangers."

"Well, damn. Guess I really just am an asshole."

"Dean," Sam assured, "we just got worried. We don't know the guy and he is an Angel."

Dean pulled out a chair and joined them at the table. "And what exactly do we know about Angels?"

"They are all about bloodlines. They have to have blood from one of four families to be an actual Angel. They're born inta the gang. Given angel names and I ain't never heard of one leaving," Bobby lectured. "They spend most of their efforts fighting demons and they use corporate businesses to fund their little side business."

"So, sorta like us."

"Except they let Clouds get ganked by monsters, cause that's so below them, and they kill Hunters who get in their way. It's not the same, Dean."

Dean made a face, nodding. "Fine. So is it really that hard to believe that one wants to leave and runs?"

Sam and Bobby exchange a guilty shrug. "Suppose not," Bobby sighs.

"So, let me handle the guy. He really does seem like he's on the level. And I'm not letting Kubrick be the one to dig. I can dig."

"Fine," Bobby relented.

"Did you find out anything more today?" Dean asked, hoping they had not messed with Cas too much.

"No. He hasn't said a word all day," Sam admitted.

"Nothing?" Dean asked. He had been easy enough to talk to yesterday.

"Nothing. He only seems to talk to you," Bobby said with annoyance.

"Huh," Dean frowned. "Well, I guess I will go back here and talk to Little Miss Shy. Did he eat okay?"

"He wouldn't eat," Sam added. "He did drink, but only water."

So the guy was very paranoid. Could ya blame him? "Have Ellen send over burgers and fries, would ya?" Dean asked Sam as he headed down the short hall and into the open bedroom.

Castiel lay sleeping on the bed. His color looked better. A band-aid lay stuck to his inner elbow and Dean really wished they had not had to prod the guy any further. The two deep scratches on his forearm were red and inflamed, but healing. His hair stuck up in errant points and waves and his chest rose and fell calmly. He was curled to the side slightly, favoring his wound somewhat.

Dean sat on the side of the bed, watching him with interest. A smile spread across his face when Castiel's eyes slowly blinked open. Seeing Dean, he wiggled down into the covers a bit more and covered a grin with the blankets. Dean knew he was grinning by the crinkles next to his eyes.

"Hey, Cas," Dean said softly, rubbing his hand up and down Castiel's upper arm. "Heard you were a difficult patient today."

The grin disappeared and a worried arch settled across the bridge of his eyebrows and forehead.

He shook his head no. "I was not difficult."

"They said you wouldn't eat."

Cas lowered the blanket and glanced away guiltily.

"Or talk."

His mouth opened and closed, but he said nothing.

"And you would only drink water?" Dean pressed. "You must think we're monsters here."

Castiel bit his lip, his eyes nervously connecting with Dean's. "I don't know them."

"But you know me?" Dean asked, his own hand squeezing softly then pulling away.

"I do," Castiel all but whispered.

Dean nodded with a sad smile. "I get it, man. But Sam? And Bobby? You can trust them. You need to. Your making yourself look more guilty by not talking."

Castiel thought a moment and cleared his throat. "Okay."

"So, if I have Bobby come in here, you'll talk to him?"

Castiel looked away. "Only if you stay."

"I'm here for the rest of the night. Let's get this over with."

Castiel nodded and Dean went back to the living room. "Castiel will see you now," Dean grinned.

"What?" Bobby hopped up, shaking his head. "That took like .2 seconds!"

"Hey, what can I say. I'm awesome!"

Bobby rolled his eyes and followed him back to the bedroom.

Castiel was propped up a bit in the bed and watched the pair like a cat watches a pair of dogs.

"So Bobby, what do you want to know?" Dean asked, jumping to it.

Bobby perched on the edge of the chair. Dean leaned against the empty dresser.

"I'm Bobby. And Dean is closest thing I ever had to having a son. So...you can see why I'm a bit over protective when an Angel drops in and takes a liking to him."

"Geez," Dean moaned, massaging his forehead.

"I did not 'drop in here'," Castiel air quoted. "I was brought here when Lee accidentally shot me. I do not know why he brought me wherever 'here' is, you would have to ask him."

"Where are you from?" Bobby pressed.

Castiel's mouth opened, but he looked at Dean first. "I will not talk about the location of Angel headquarters. Nor will I give you any names."

Bobby squinted hard. "Why?"

Castiel breathed a deep breath and pulled his knees up, feet pressed flat into the mattress. "They do good works, my brothers and sisters. They accomplish a lot that most of the world knows nothing about. I do not wish them harm. I just...can no longer be one of them."

"What made you leave, Cas?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked at his hands for a long moment. "Several reasons."

After waiting longer, Dean rolled his eyes with impatience. "Such as?"

Castiel's eyes caught his in a pull. It was almost strong enough to pull Dean back to the bed, but Bobby was there and...no.

"They see everything in black and white. It is save or slay. No in between. And some times bystanders need to be saved. Even some monsters," he finished weakly. Dean thought back to pulling the trigger on the chick Sam had fallen for in one night. She may have been a werewolf, but damnit she was good people. Had he only known more, they could have helped her instead of pulling that damn trigger. As Dean's eyes dropped, he could have sworn he had just admitted that story to Castiel. And Dean felt sure Castiel just shared a similar story with him. Both glanced guiltily away.

"Is it true you all have Angel names?" Bobby asked.

"Yes."

"You're all born from the four founding Angel families?"

"Yes. A practice I do not condone."

"Corporate cover and funding?"

Castiel glanced away but nodded.

"Explain the tattoos."

"Every member has one. The higher the rank, the larger the tattoo. Highest ranking members are archangels."

"Angel of Thursday ain't no wallflower," Bobby leaned in, "and your tattoo is pretty damn big, boy."

Castiel glanced nervously at Dean, then focused back on Bobby. "You are correct. I was a second rank, second only to the archangels themselves, meaning I led my own hunts and I led my own battalion. We are born into our stations, slated since birth. Our DNA is manipulated to the best of their abilities to create strong, viral, mostly male, Angels. They have begun creating the next generation. They own every bit of us from conception til death." He said bitterly, eyes hard and far away. He looked back to the window and worry again softened his brow. "They will never stop hunting me. It is what concerns me most. I fear they will find me here and bring the wrath of the Angels down on you."

Dean exchanged a look with Bobby. Yeah, that could be a problem. Like a really big problem.

"How long you been out?" Bobby asked.

"Four months."

Bobby sat back deep in thought. Dean knew the man was pondering the likelihood of an attack or the chances of being discovered.

"I'll be back to see you tomorrow," Bobby said, walking out of the room and the apartment. Castiel followed him with his eyes and then they slid shut, a look of defeat on his face.

"Dean, you should get rid of me. Take me away from here before I ruin anything!"

Dean took his seat on the bed. "We can hide you, Cas. No one is going to find you here. And if they would, we can protect you. Or run if we have to."

A look of pain settled onto his face.

"Cas," Dean assured, taking his hand in his own. "We can protect you."

Castiel looked as though he might cry or bolt. Dean sucked in a breath of surprise when the man lurched forward and wrapped his arms around him. Dean instinctively held him tight.

"I'm sorry to have brought the burden of myself here!"

"You're not a burden. We do this sort of thing all the time," Dean assured. His hand slid up, flexing and rubbing through the messy, silky hair. "I got you."

"Huhmm," Sam cleared his throat from the doorway.

The pair sprung apart, Dean standing up feeling ten kinds of guilty and awkward.

"Brought your dinner," he announced with a blush.

Dean grabbed the bag and drinks from Sam.

"Should I have brought candles and music too?" Sam chuckled.

"Shut up," Dean clipped. He knew that innocent moment must have looked hella-gay, but what could he do now?

Dean sat the drinks on the nightstand and caught the blush on Castiel's face.

"Cas, this is Sam. He's my brother. You can trust him. More than anyone else here."

Sam waved and shoved his hands in his pockets with a playful grin teasing his mouth.

"Hello Sam," Castiel nodded.

"He does speak!" Sam laughed. "Good ta meet ya, Castiel."

Cas pressed his lips in a flat line, tucking his chin with that bashful look that made Dean want go 'awww!'

"I gotta close up shop. Got a big order in tonight for you too, Dean."

Dean nodded. "Can it wait til morning?"

"Yeah. Pick up is Monday."

"Have a nice evening," Sam grinned more than necessary.

"Night, Sammy."

"Goodnight, Sam."

The pair exchanged a nervous glance, both exhaling when they heard the apartment door close.

"Hungry?" Dean asked, rifling through the bag.

"I'm very hungry," Cas admitted sheepishly.

"Yeah," Dean grinned, handing him a box, "guess that happens when you refuse food all day. Paranoid much?"

"Yes, very," Castiel agreed, missing the humor Dean had intended.

Castiel bit into the burger and groaned with eyes closed.

"Need me to leave you two alone?" Dean laughed.

"No, please stay," Castiel said around a mouth full of food.

Dean laughed, biting into his own burger. Okay, so maybe he had a thing for this guy. He mulled the thought as he mulled his food in this mouth. He had never had 'a thing' for a guy before. Okay, maybe there was a moment with the guy with the Gollum. And that guy in Arizona when he was in high school. It had been years since he gave that thought the light of day. He took another bite, skating a glance past Castiel. Yeah, he had hooked up with that guy in Arizona. They had jacked each other off in the bathroom at a party where he knew almost no one and knew he wouldn't be there long. Only Sam knew about that. Being drunk and sharing close quarters with Sam for years had a way of making you share more than you ever thought you would. Sam had admitted he had thought he was gay until he met Jess. Then he decided he must be bi. He had told Dean he was bi too, but Dean disagreed. I mean, he was Dean Fucking Winchester. Ladies man.

"What are you thinking about?" Castiel asked, shattering his train of thought and making him blush profusely as if he had been caught in that bathroom. Suddenly Cas was there, in front of him in vivid color, head tilted slightly, brows quirked in question. So. Fucking. Endearing.

"Dean?"

"Yeah! No! I mean...what?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I'm good," Dean nodded, shoving several fries into his mouth.

Castiel followed his fries with his eyes, slowly putting one into his own mouth. His eyes lingered on Dean's lips. Dean licked salt from his lips and watched as Cas did the same. Dean cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to the fries in his to-go container. "I need ketchup."

Castiel chuckled. Dean stood up to go to the kitchen, Castiel's chuckle turned into an outright laugh. "Dean-"

"I'll be right back," Dean said, exiting at high speed as if the ketchup would save his life.

He opened the fridge and pulled the bottle from the door and stood there a moment.

"Get your shit together, Winchester."

Back to the bedroom, Dean picked up his container and drink and took the chair at the foot of the bed. He turned it, propping his feet on the bed and flipping the container open again.

Castiel watched him quietly. He plowed through another bite of the burger. Dean took a long drink.

"I rested all day today. I believe tomorrow I will be able to get up. Am I allowed? To be up?"

Dean swallowed, looking him over. "Yeah. You can be up. In here."

"I would like to see Sam's shop."

"Uh...no. I'm afraid you are stuck inside this apartment until I decide, or Bobby decides, you are healthy enough to leave." Probably drugged with a bag over his head so there was no way possible the Angel would know where he had been. Not that he was sharing that tidbit with Castiel. The guy was skittish enough.

"So, what are you going to do when you leave?" Dean asked, trying to rid the silence that stretched between them.

Castiel shrugged. "Hunt."

Dean quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah, that's workin' for ya."

"You've never been injured in the line of duty?" Castiel asked bitterly, eyes narrowing and showing some of that spunk Dean saw every now and then.

Dean grinned, one cheek over-stuffed with burger. "Been shot...three times. Stabbed several times." He swallowed, sucking a bit of burger from behind a molar. "Smart people don't hunt alone."

"And who do you hunt with?"

"Sam."

Castiel looked at the curtained window next to the bed. "Maybe I will find my brother."

"You have a brother?"

"I have many brothers and sisters. Every Angel is my brother or sister. Being the station I am, I was raised close to..." Castiel stumbled on his words, realizing how much he was talking. He cleared his throat and glanced at Dean. "Yes, I have a brother that I would very much like to find."

"Is he at home?" Dean asked, trying to decipher what little Cas was giving him.

"No. He left over a year ago."

"So...Angels leaving happens more than we thought."

"No."

The finality in the tiny statement spoke volumes. Castiel's look was stormy with conviction, making Dean think twice before speaking. "Is he...did you leave for the same reasons?"

"Yes."

Their eyes were locked again and Dean swallowed hard. "Cas, what made you leave?"

Castiel's eyes darted away, then rested on the remaining fries and partial burger on his lap. A long moment passed but Dean waited without so much as breathing too hard.

"My family is very religious. I began to...question some teachings. I do not agree with all the preachings of the Angels."

Dean stood up, catching those blue, startled eyes with his as he sat facing Cas on the side of the bed.

"What teachings? What preachings? I need some details, Cas."

Cas pressed his mouth into a firm line, pleading with his eyes.

"If you want help from us, we need to know a little more."

Castiel sighed, eyes closing. Dean wanted to give in, let him have his mysterious past, let him tell him on his own time. But that was never going to happen.

"Cas." He waited for the blue eyes to open again. Now they were full of worry and more that Dean could not yet decipher. "Do you know what I am?"

Castiel blinked. His face turned into a curious frown, head tilting slightly. "A Hunter."

Dean cleared his throat. "I was a Hunter. I will be again. But for now, until Sam and I can travel safely again, I'm a Keeper."

"A Keeper," Castiel whispered, leaning forward. "I've heard of Keepers. You supply and support Hunters. And keep...things."

Dean nodded, their eyes locked. "We keep secrets. We keep...anything that needs kept to keep the Clouds safe. We can help you, Cas. If you let us."

Castiel sat back, his mouth in that tight, firm press that made it difficult for Dean to look away from.

"Can you keep me?" Castiel asked in a hushed voice.

A thrill spiraled upwards from Dean's gut, right up his chest and into his head, making him take a deep breath. "Maybe. But I need good reason."

Castiel sat his styrofoam carton aside, licking his dry lips. "My brother was in the process of being banished. He is...homosexual. That is a great sin to my family. They had proof. They were going to strip his rank and...I helped him escape."

Dean twisted his lips in disgust. "THAT'S the big secret?"

"He had been sleeping with a Cloud. Not even a Watcher. It is a very big deal where I come from."

"And that was the only thing he did?" Dean pressed.

"He also often spoke against Angel teachings of bloodlines and unnecessary killing of Hunters, monsters, and the innocent. He rebelled quite frequently."

"And why did you help him?"

Castiel sighed. "Gabriel and I are much alike. In our questions. Our ideals."

"Gabriel? So, this is a top ranking Angel?" Dean was putting the picture together.

"Yes. He was meant to be a leader. But he would frequently just disappear. He hates the entire thing. The Angels. Hunting. All of it."

"And you?"

Castiel pinned him with an intense gaze. "I do not believe in bloodlines. I do not believe that I am better than the rest of the world. My life is no more important than anyone else's. I do not think who I am attracted to should be dictated to me through lineage and elders who sit around and decide for me. Our marriages are arranged. Our families are planned. Our children are branded at birth. It's archaic and self righteous!"

Castiel was getting worked up. He was sweating and getting paler by the second. Dean instinctively reached out and rubbed his arm. "Relax. No one is judging you here."

"But that's not true!" Castiel's eyes darted and he ran his hands back into his hair, making it wild. "You will all judge me for who I was. Where I was born. But I don't want to be an Angel! I don't!"

"Cas," Dean soothed, "breathe."

Castiel leaned back into the pillows, Dean sitting his` forgotten meal on the nightstand and kept the soothing stroking to his arms and hands. "You're out. You don't ever have to go back. Ever." Dean waited until Castiel would make eye contact and got a half-hearted nod from him.

"No one is turning you in. No arranged marriages. No talk of bloodlines or families."

Castiel nodded to each statement and took a deep breath. "They will never stop hunting me."

"Then I will never stop keeping you." The words were out of Dean's mouth with more conviction than he had had since he swore to Sam he would not let him die. But there was no denying the bolt of shock that ran through each man. Dean's at what he had said. Castiel's that Dean meant it.

Dean pulled back, realizing he was gripping the man's hands in his. He dropped them, wiping his palms nervously down his thighs. They were heavy words. A commitment. A vow. And Dean had just...thrown them out there. The baffling part was that, yeah, he meant them.

"Dean," Castiel said in a hushed voice, cheeks flushed now and eyes wide. "I had no right to ask that of you."

"Well, it's done. And I will."

"But why?" Castiel asked with a tremor.

Dean stood up to pace. He sat back in the chair at the foot of the bed, trying for nonchalance. "Tell me. What happens when the top ranking dick squad deems you unfit for Angeldom?"

Castiel gaped a few times. He set his jaw firmer and began to explain. "There are three steps. Gabriel never even made it to the first step. I had warned him before they could reach him and he had disappeared. I did go through the first step. You are brought before the Choir."

"They sing to you?" Dean snorted, stuffing fries into his mouth, trying to lighten the mood.

"The Choir is the top two ranks of Angels. It is held in one of the sacred rooms. They wear robes and stand on tiered platforms with you at the center, kneeling and head bowed."

Castiel had a far away look in his eyes. The ceremony must have been humiliating and it made Dean angry just thinking about it.

"Your name is struck from the book. If you have children or a spouse, which I do not, their names can be struck out as well. One of the ArchAngels reads your list of great sins to the Choir. You are stripped of clothing, rank, and all ties are severed. You are gagged and imprisoned for three days."

"Jesus," Dean huffed. "How did you escape?"

"I had a chance and I took it." A heavy, dark look crossed Castiel's face. "I...killed my guard."

Dean nodded, the hairs on his arms raising with a chill.

"What are the second two steps?"

"Step two is the removal of your wings."

Dean's brow furrowed into a question and Castiel continued.

"Hot oil is prepared and poured over any tattoos."

Dean knew his mouth was hanging open, but...what the actual fuck even?

"The third step is being cast down. When an Angel falls, they are taken to the top of one of the towers and cast down. To your death."

Silence hung in the air as Dean pictured Castiel going through each of these steps. "They throw you off the roof?"

"It's from Lucifer's window on the tenth floor of his tower."

Dean sat back at the flooding images going through his mind. "They're crazy."

"It rarely happens. Gabriel would have been the first to go through the ceremony in over a hundred years."

The men sat in silence for a long while.

"Their efforts will be unrelenting. Dean, you can not put yourself in the middle of this. I won't let you."

"I didn't ask your permission," Dean said flatly, his mind still seeing Castiel being doused in hot oil, skin peeling and screaming. Being thrown out a window and landing in a sickening crunch to the ground. There was no way in Hell he was letting that happen. "Where is Gabriel?"

"I don't know," Castiel answered quietly. "I looked for him. But he is very adept at disappearing."

Dean nodded solemnly. "We need to find him. We can hide you both."

Not able to take the severity of his thoughts or the weight of the mood in the room, Dean gathered his uneaten food and drink and stood up. "Get some rest, Cas. I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

He made his way, stiffly to the living room, sitting heavily on the couch and numbly sitting his dinner on the worn out coffee table.

An hour later, Sam came in. Dean had not moved.

"Dude, you alright?" Sam asked, eyeing the food suspiciously.

"Yeah," Dean ground out gruffly. "We need a meeting."

Sam nodded and left. Dean knew where he was going. He'd get Bobby and they would all have to decide what to do about their little Angel problem. If they wouldn't play ball, Dean knew he would have to run. There was no way he would turn over the Angel. He inventoried in his mind how quickly he could get Cas to his car, which was stocked to escape. He had three exit routes mapped out in his head when Sam came back.

"Keeper meet in ten at my shop," Sam said quietly. "Bobby wants to know who to put with Castiel."

"Lee and Krissy. They brought him."

"That's what I was thinking," Sam agreed.

"Go ahead. I'll be there when Lee shows."

Sam nodded and left.

Dean got to his feet quickly and went to the bedroom. Castiel was asleep. He leaned over the sleeping figure, patting his shoulder. "Cas. Wake up."

Castiel's eyes sprang open and he half sat up.

"I'm going to a meeting. A Keeper meeting. I want you to stay awake until I come back. Get your shoes on but hide them. Be ready to run if we need to."

"Dean, no, I couldn't cause trouble among your people-"

Dean gripped the man's shoulder firmly, "Be ready."

Castiel sighed, but flipped the covers back to get the sneakers on and tuck them away again.

Dean heard the apartment door open. "Act like you're sleeping," Dean whispered and Castiel quickly laid still.

Dean pulled the bedroom door shut and pulled his leather jacket on as he went into the living room.

"He's still out cold. Just checked him," Dean said to Lee.

Lee nodded nervously, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, Krissy flopping on the couch.

"No one sees him but me," Dean said firmly.

"Got it," Lee nodded. "And Dean, tell everyone I'm sorry. I woulda never brought him here had I known he was an Angel."

Dean nodded. "It'll be fine, Lee. Shit happens on a hunt. Bobby forgets that sometimes."

Lee smiled sadly at that and Dean left. He did not like leaving Castiel. It was the only thing that still made him wonder if he wasn't hexed or spelled. He hated leaving the Angel's side. It made him sick with worry.

He crossed the alley, the night was rainy and cold. The roads would be slick over some of the passes. He mentally crossed off one of the escape routes in his head.

He wrenched open the back door and went down the basement steps to the research room and library under Sam's shop.

The room was a wide rectangle of a room, all walls lined with wooden shelves that were stuffed full of books, scrolls, and parchments. Six medium size wooden tables sat spaced out through the room, four chairs each, each table holding two lights. It smelled like old paper and mahogany. His own shop's room smelled of gunpowder and cleaning oil. His was modern, tiled and well-lit. This shop looked like nothing had changed since it was built, except for the three computers that sat with dark, sleeping screens on the furthest two tables.

Just inside the door, around the first table, sat all the Keepers. Bobby, Ellen, Sam, Charlie, Ash, Jo, Becky, and Chuck.

Dean pulled an empty chair over and sat down.

"We need to talk about the Angel," Dean said.

Bobby nodded.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4. Chained

Dean closed his eyes, breathing in a steadying breath and rolling his eyes in private. This meeting should have lasted exactly two minutes. One minute for Dean to say, "He's a good guy. He's in trouble. We need to help him." And one minute for everyone else to nod their stupid heads and agree with him. But no. They had been at it for two HOURS. Debate. Research. Question. Debate. And this was exactly why Dean was a better Hunter than a Keeper. Out on the road, he just did what needed done and did not consult a committee about it. And Sam was one of the major contributing time extenders to this meeting. Sam and Bobby could talk themselves blue. And Charlie could see both sides of the story. Ash went to sleep an hour and a half ago. Fucker. Chuck, Ellen and Jo listened carefully, adding comments only occasionally. Becky took notes of everything, nodding with anything Sam said. And Dean had made his position clear. The Angel was to be protected. And he was protecting him. So, if they were shipping him out, Dean was going too. No one agreed to that. Dean had committed to a year of keeping and he had 8 months minimum left. Fuck that. Dean was ready to bolt if the decision to send Cas away was what the Keepers final decision was. Sam seemed to pick up on this fact twenty minutes ago and had gotten quiet since then. Ellen and Bobby were watching him close enough to make him squirm.

"I don't think I'm hexed or spelled or whatever," Dean growled when that topic was brought up again. Sam still looked doubtful on that.

"Okay," Bobby said, sighing, "so, we agree the guy is really out on his ass and doesn't want to go back to Angel HQ."

Everyone nodded while Dean just glared.

"I have an idea," Sam said, leaning forward.

"Please, share with the class," Bobby sighed.

"Well, he needs more time to heal and to stay hidden. We can do that here." His eyes darted to Dean's with a trace of nervousness. "So, let's do a chain spell on him. Chain him to a Keeper until he's ready to leave. He wants to be a Hunter anyway, so he can learn our ways here and then go out and...ya know. Hunt."

Dean mulled the idea over. A chain spell would shut everyone up from thinking Cas was going to run off with all their secrets. Even speaking about their secrets or contacting another Angel would alert the Keeper he was chained to. It was a witch spell, the very idea of it making Dean's skin crawl, but he would do it.

"Fine," Dean said. "I'll do it."

"No!" Bobby and Ellen snapped, Sam eyeing Dean carefully.

"Why not?" Dean leaned forward, eyes hard and narrowing.

"If he does have some kind of spell on you," Bobby said with impatient patience, "the chain spell will break it. And I can't take the chance the other way around Dean."

Bobby and Dean exchanged a heated stare off. "Fine." Dean relented.

"I'll do it," Sam said, not looking at Dean.

Dean chewed the inside of his cheek, turning the idea over in his brain. He didn't like it. Being chained gave you a weak bond. And Dean did not like the idea of Sam being bonded to his- Whoa. Not 'his' Angel. The guy. Cas. Yeah, he didn't like it. It rubbed him all kinds of wrong.

"I'll do it," Charlie said, watching the brothers.

Dean's eyes slid to her. He wanted to lash out at her for even thinking she could do it. One, Charlie could be a push-over. Two, just...no.

Dean clamped down on his angry, irrational thoughts. If he were anyone else at the table he would think he was hexed too. He was being stupidly protective of the guy. Charlie would be a good choice. One, she wouldn't kill him. Two, ...yeah, no. Not happening.

"So how long would he have to be chained to Sam?" Dean asked.

Charlie sat back, twisting her lip and looking at Bobby.

"As long as it takes to decide if he can be a Hunter and not an Angel. Til I say so, Dean."

Dean nodded. "Sounds like a plan." A stupid fucking plan. But it kept him here.

"What if he refuses?" Chuck asked, always the worrier.

"Then he has to go," Bobby said.

"And by 'go'," Charlie said slowly, "you mean we gotta-"

"He won't say no," Dean snapped. "He's scared. He's alone. The last thing he wants is to be found by them. No, I take that back. The last thing he wants is for them to track him here. He doesn't want to drag us into his problems. Lee brought him here. Cas never asked for any of this. He will say yes and no one is killing anyone tonight." He glared at everyone at the table, everyone nodding back solemnly.

"I'll get the stuff," Sam said, getting up and going to his storage room, Becky and Chuck helping him gather all they needed.

"I'll get Cas," Dean said, standing.

Bobby went to say something, but Ellen put a hand on his arm and gave him a warning look.

Dean left, thankful for the blast of cold drizzle that greeted him outside. The meeting had clouded his head. He took a deep breath of the night air and gave himself a mental kick for acting like an ass in there. He knew this was about keeping everyone safe. Not just one guy.

In the apartment, Dean hesitated before opening the bedroom door. He could take Cas and run right now. But it would be impossible not to be tracked by either Sam or the Angels. Dean did not want to go down that road. He had faith in the guy. He just had to wait for the rest of them to be sold on the idea.

He opened the door to the dark little room, Cas curled on his side and not moving. "Cas," he said.

Castiel sat up as fast as he could. "Dean."

Dean flipped a light on, waiting for Castiel's eyes to adjust. "Come on. We had a meeting and they need to see you."

Castiel stood slowly, his eyes watching Dean for any more information. Worry crinkled his brow. He put the jacket on that Dean handed him. He looked at the zip ties on the dresser and back to Dean.

Dean knew his face gave nothing back and Castiel pressed his mouth into a firm line. He stood as tall as he could and looked resigned to whatever he was walking into. Poor bastard.

Lee and Krissy parted ways in the apartment hallway. Lee turned back to Castiel. "I'm sorry I got you dragged into all this, Castiel. But you can trust Dean."

"Thank you," Castiel said grimly, his eyes flashing past Dean's quickly.

Across the alley, Castiel hesitated at the top of the stairs, one hand gripping the railing tightly. He was breathing heavy and looked slightly unsteady.

Dean put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

"I don't know why I trust you," Castiel said in a low, flat tone. "But I do."

Dean swallowed hard. "I don't know why I trust you so much either. But I do. But Cas, this is my family. If you cross us,"

"I understand," Castiel sighed.

They exchanged a glance and proceeded down the stairs, Dean keeping a steadying hand on him.

Dean sat Cas at the table, his eyes so blue and watchful. He was seeing all the Keepers. Dean knew that if Cas refused this deal, there was no getting out alive. They would have to kill him. At best, imprison him for life.

"Castiel," Bobby began, Dean taking the seat next to Cas. He clasped his hands on the table, keeping them from fidgeting.

Bobby went over the plan for the chain spell.

Castiel nodded slowly. "And I would stay here?"

"Yes," Bobby said.

"For how long?"

"Until I say so," Bobby said firmly.

Castiel sat for a moment. "It is more than fair," he said at long last. "But I must warn you again of the dangers of keeping me here. My family will not stop looking for me until I am found. Their dogged search could lead them here and I do not want to see such a thing happen."

Bobby nodded. "We will deal with that when we come to it. For now, do you agree to the spell?"

Castiel looked at Sam warily but could see no other option. "Yes."

Dean let out a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. He still did not like this idea. He watched in frustration as Sam and Bobby added the ingredients together. Sam cut his arm, bleeding into the little heap of items and handed the knife to Castiel. He cut his arm as well, making Dean grit his teeth. His blood dripped down onto Sam's. Sam added holy water and swirled the mix. He handed Cas a piece of paper and the two read the spell together three times. Sam took the paper back, lighting it on fire and dropping it into the silver bowl. It flared with green flames and ended in a putrid smelling sizzle. The men exchanged a glance, both shivering slightly and Dean knew the spell was set. Sam's eyes went to Dean's, full of apology. Dean had nothing to give back. He knew the look in his eyes was dead. But he could no longer sum up the energy to be angry. Outwardly, anyway.

"Feel any different?" Bobby asked Dean with a look of wary hopefulness.

"No."

Bobby nodded, looking away. "Let's call it a night."

Everyone got up, chairs scraping on the old, wooden floor. Castiel stood slowly.

"I can stay with Castiel the rest of the night," Sam offered.

Dean looked at Cas, who nodded slightly and Dean felt something thin and fragile shatter inside him. Not a spell. Just hope maybe. It wasn't often that Dean made friends. As childish as that may seem, it was true. Sam made friends easily. And for all he had done for this guy, he could see Cas stepping away from him and into the easy circle of Sam's company. And they were bonded. This sucked.

"Sure," Dean said, passing them and heading up the steps.

"Dean-" Sam called but Dean ignored and wisely, Sam did not follow. He went to bed for the few crappy hours of sleep he could get until he needed to be in his store again. Because he was a Keeper.

Dean kicked his boots off. Ripped his jacket and flannel off, whipping them into a corner. He threw his jeans onto a chair with a 'thwack' and dropped onto his bed. Sam was bonded to Cas. And he should not care this much. Not by a long shot. But he did. The thought rolled and roiled in his mind. Freaking Angels. Freaking Sam.

Dean parked the shitty, nondescript truck at the back door of his shop. He had met with Bela and gotten their shipment. The day away from Keeper's Cross had been good medicine for Dean. His head was a little clearer and his anger was down to a low simmer. Sam had asked him several times if he was okay with how things went down and Dean had outright lied. 'Sure Sammy.'

But that is what needed to be said. He had kicked himself for choosing Sam over Charlie. Somehow it now felt like the much better option. Since it couldn't be him. Whatever. Dean unbuckled and shut the engine off, forcefully shoving the thoughts away. The back door opened to Sam's shop and Dean grit his teeth as Sam and Cas came out the door to help him unload.

"Well, if it isn't Thing one and Thing two," he grinned, fighting his malicious edge away.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said.

Castiel looked slightly confused and said nothing.

"Up and walking, huh?" Dean asked, opening the locked cap and pulling the tailgate down.

"Yes. I worked in the bookstore today. Sam said he could use the help."

Dean's eyes darted to Sam and back to the pile of wares from Bela.

"Good for you. Here, take that inside," Dean said, handing Castiel a box of ingredients that wreaked of witchy bullshit.

Castiel took the light box and disappeared inside the door.

"Dean, can we talk?"

Dean dropped his head and heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Sure. What's up."

He sat on the tailgate, wanting this over and done. "Dean, I figured chaining Cas to me was smarter than to anyone else. I mean, you know I'm gonna protect the guy. Right?" His eyes were pleading for understanding and acceptance of the situation.

"Oh yeah. I got it. And I'm sure you will protect him, honor him, all that shit bonded people do."

Sam's jaw opened and closed, his eyes narrowing and he straightened to his full height with shock slowly taking over. "Dean...you...Do you-"

"Careful Sammy," Dean warned, low.

"I was joking before but do you actually like him?"

Dean's jaw clenched.

"I mean, like...are you attracted to him?"

Dean scowled.

"Shit."

"No," Dean answered. "I fought for the guy. That doesn't make me gay for the guy."

"Oh my God," Sam rolled his eyes and staggered back a step. "You're such a dick."

Dean shook his head and pursed his lips. "Yeah. Too nice. Too dickish. I'm just bouncin' all over the fucking place."

"Dean," Sam said firmly, "I was worried it was a spell! You don't usually...I didn't know."

"There is nothing to know. Now, can I get back to work here?"

"A chain spell only tells me that Cas is close," Sam explained hastily. Dean closed his eyes tightly, summoning all scraps of kindness and patience. Because every time Sam called Cas, Cas, Dean wanted to throat-punch him. And that was not okay.

"And alerts me if he does anything untoward against us!"

Dean nodded, his eyes opening serenely. Sam not buying it.

"Dean..." Sam said quietly, stepping toward him again. "He's hiding something."

A chill ran down Dean's body. "What?"

Sam nodded. "I'm not sure what it is. It's something to do with Angels. It's like a...buzzing or an itch. Every day I sense it a little stronger."

"So ask him about it," Dean snapped, feeling like he was marriage counseling for an ex. Which was absolutely crap and he knew it.

"I have," Sam snapped back.

"Well, he's your," Dean flicked a hand out, "bondmate or whatever."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's a chain spell, Dean. Not a bond. It tells me where he is in proximity to me and whether or not he's being honest and forthright." Sam was getting pissy now, so Dean attempted to listen, but it all sounded like a whole pile of 'not my problem'. "He's honest but he's not telling us something."

"Look, he's chained to you. Not me," Dean said tightly. "Keep asking him."

Sam sighed, his shoulders drooping. "He hardly talks, Dean. He's...never mind." He started walking away.

"Hey," Dean called, sliding off the tailgate and onto his feet, "you gonna help me carry this shit down?"

"Jo can help," Sam mumbled, not stopping.

Dean rolled his eyes and his shoulders. He had to shake this off. Had to get over himself.

Dean had put his five new daggers, one sword, ten handguns and one dysfunctional rocket-launcher away. Bela had done well. Dean felt better as he restocked his dwindling supplies. He sat aside two daggers for rituals that needed done to them to make them worth a Hunter carrying. He glanced up at his Demon blade. It was encased in a warded glass box that he and Sam had put together. He would take it with him when his Keeper days were done. Until then, all he could do was equip his friends, family and fellow Hunters to keep them safe. And keep learning to play the guitar. Because, yeah!

"Dean."

Dean jumped, flipping a dagger into attack stance and turning instinctively as his heart thrummed with adrenaline, relaxing with a huff and putting the dagger back. "Yeah, Cas."

"Sorry, I did not mean to-"

"It's fine. What do you need?" Dean closed and locked the case the daggers were in and turned off the cabinet light.

"I just wanted to see how you were."

Dean turned, looking at him with guarded eyes. "I'm good. How bout you? How's the?" He circled his finger where Castiel's gunshot wound was.

"Healing. Thank you."

Their eyes caught, holding a moment until Dean pulled his away, clearing his throat. "I gotta get up to the shop."

Castiel pressed his lips in that firm line, looking like he wanted to say more but held back. Dean surmised this for the best. If he needed to talk about something, he should talk to Sam.

"I'll just...go then," Castiel said solemnly.

Dean nodded, watching him leave.

Dean sighed heavily, leaning against the table he had dug Castiel's bullet out on. He needed to not be a dick. But every time Sam or Cas came within eyesight, Dean lost all his nice juice and went straight to dickhead status. The guy had been around almost a week and Dean needed to get a grip.

He ascended the steps, counting and breathing and in general trying to lose his attitude.

Once in the shop, Jo threw him a grin. "Took an order this morning from Gordon."

"Oh yeah?" Dean grinned, hugging her and taking his seat behind the counter. "Ammo?"

"And this," she said, sliding the note to him that she had taken while on the phone.

Dean read over it. A silver knife, dipped in lamb's blood during a full moon.

"I got one." Dean slid the paper back for her to put back in the register drawer. "Anything else exciting?"

"Talked to Castiel yesterday," she shrugged. "He is...so uptight."

"Yeah," Dean grinned, reading through email he had missed while away.

"Did you know he can speed read?" She asked.

"Nope," Dean said with a pop.

"Seriously, like reads like two pages in like ten seconds!"

"Like, really?" Dean teased.

She frowned, leaning on the counter. "Shut up. For real. It's pretty cool. Charlie was having a cow about it, kept giving him books and making him read, then asking him questions. It was quite entertaining."

"Sounds like it," Dean chuckled, closing his phone and avoiding looking at her as he pictured Sam and Cas cozying up to a table with a book and having fun and laughing with Jo and Charlie. He mentally took a zippo to the image and cleared his throat again, definitely not looking at Jo. If anyone could inadvertently draw embarrassing information out of him, it was Jo. She was like the little sister he never wanted.

"He's pretty hot too," she blushed.

Dean felt his cheeks heat up. He glanced up at her and she was watching a pair of boys looking at posters. So this wasn't her baiting him. It was just her being a girl.

He shook his head, her gaze lazily coming back to his.

"Boys," she rolled her eyes.

Dean furrowed his brow, ready to snap at her about minding her own business, when the two boys came to the counter with a poster of a barely dressed woman. Dean smirked. Boys.

He rang up the poster as Charlie walked through the front door.

The boys left and Charlie leaned onto the counter. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I was just telling Dean about Castiel and his speed reading."

"Mm," Charlie grinned. "His superpower is awesome." Her eyes were not their typical open, relaxed lightness. She had something to tell him.

"Jo, can you hang for half an hour?"

"Sure," she sighed, shoving at him to move off the stool so she could reclaim it.

Dean headed out the front door with Charlie by his side. The day was cold and bright. Thankfully, it was dry with no snow in the air. They walked past Sam's storefront, where The Bookkeeper sign posted above the entrance was gleaming with gold painted lettering on a large, wooden hunter green sign. He could see through the two large picture windows that framed the door, that Cas and Sam were behind the counter talking about something while at least two people milled about inside shopping. It was the largest of the Keeper shops and Dean had to pull his coat up tighter around his neck and the brittle cold air gusted into their faces. Next was the large window and single door that fronted Charlie and Ash's place. The neon sign above the door looked cheaply modern next to the quaint wooden bookstore sign and Dean's wooden Black Dog Records sign. There was an annoying buzz to the LED light and it flickered in the right upper corner. It was a white block of a sign with red lettering that said, 'Frank's Electronics'.

"When are you going to get a new sign, Charlie?" Dean gruffed through the layers of his coat.

"Never," she grinned. "Frank was the shit."

"I met him. I thought he was bat-shit crazy."

Charlie smirked, pulling the door to her shop open and they bustled inside quickly. When Ash finished ringing up the guy buying two charger cords, Dean leaned against her counter much like she often did to his.

"Hola!" Ash grinned.

"Hey, Ash."

"Bring us anything from Miss Bela?" He asked in his slightly strained voice, eyes beady but watchful.

"I did," Dean nodded.

Charlie tipped her head toward the back door and Dean followed her. The tech lair was always warm from all the running computers. It was a cramped space full of desks, computers, monitors, buzzing and whirring. Screens hung on the wall, two showing maps with little lights here and there. Others were off. And one ran code endlessly. Dean had no idea what was on them and really did not care. The floor was laced with cords of varying colors.

Charlie whirled around with her hand out and an excited smile on her face. Dean slipped his hand inside his coat and pulled out the three jump drives nestled in an envelope.

"Yay!" Charlie cheered. "Did Bela say-"

"I don't want to know anything about that shit," Dean chuckled, waving a hand at the snatched envelope.

"Of course not!" Charlie waved off. "Did Bela say anything about me?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "She did. She said to tell you hi."

She squealed, making Dean laugh. "She is SO freaking hot!"

"Trust me Charlie, you deserve better. She'd do you dirty."

"Kinda what I was hoping!" Charlie laughed.

"She's into guys," Dean laughed again.

"Oh Dean," she rolled her eyes this time. "She's bi."

"Huh," Dean shrugged. "Figures. Everything about that woman is complicated."

"Like an enigma wrapped in a puzzle ensconced in a taco," Charlie said wistfully. "God, now I need a taco."

"Charlie," Dean groaned, heading for the door.

They trudged up the steps, Charlie giggling all the way.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5. My Brother's Keeper

Bottles of various sizes, shapes and colors cluttered the shelves around the large pantry. Stacks of bowls made from everything from plastic to bone to every kind of metal. Boughs of hanging herbs were strung from every ledge and notch. Unlabeled boxes were stuffed deep and tight onto shelves that never stopped Sam from finding exactly what he is looking for. It was nothing like the potions lab that was white and pristine like a science lab high in the tower of the Angels home base.

Castiel had studied like all the other Angels as a teenager, but it had all been very by the book. He knew the basics but the Hunters seemed to practice spellwork like witches AND Angels.

Castiel placed the new satin sack full of turquoise stones into a box with other similar stones. He was slowly learning the complex and somewhat random system Sam used in here. He preferred to be around the books in the larger room or upstairs in the Cloud bookstore. He had been living among the Hunters for almost three weeks now. At some moments he felt at home here. Other times he felt as lonely as ever.

"Hey Castiel!" Sam's voice rang out from upstairs.

Castiel shoved the box back into place and pulled the string to turn the light off. He closed and locked the door. "Coming," he called back, heading up the steps.

"I found that book you were asking about yesterday," Sam said, waving a book back and forth.

"Already?" Castiel smiled. He took the book when he got to the top of the stairs.

They went into the back door of the book store, laughing about how Sam finding books was like a dog after a bone.

"I'm just saying," Castiel grinned, "a little more organization will make things better around here."

"You're right," Sam laughed.

Both men froze in their tracks. "Hey, Dean," Sam said, trying to pull off nonchalance.

"Hey." Dean grinned that cold grin that did not touch his eyes. "I got a package from Bela today and this was in it." He held forward a rather large leather-bound book.

"Cool!" Sam launched forward, taking the book and heading for the counter, leaving Dean and Castiel face to face in the aisle.

"How ya been?" Dean asked, his chin tipping up in indifference that made Castiel twitch inside.

It was actually a complicated question. He was happy to be alive. Happy to be at Keeper's Cross. But he had not seen the Dean that he first met since it was agreed that Castiel could stay. It was confusing. Dean had seemed to care a great deal and then suddenly he could care less.

He wanted to talk to him. He needed to talk to someone. Thoughts pulled at the chain spell between he and Sam. Sam had pressed him one night to talk to him. He almost had. But he wanted to talk to Dean. He still felt that only Dean truly had his back. And what he had to say would not be a light matter.

"Alrighty then," Dean sighed, getting no answer from Castiel and turning to go.

"Dean," Castiel said in a hushed tone, grabbing Dean's upper arm and getting a raised eyebrow in return. "Sorry," Castiel quickly added, pulling his hand back.

Castiel cleared his throat, checking to see no Clouds were nearby. "Could I please speak with you?"

"Sure," Dean shrugged.

"It's...it's rather important."

Dean bit his lip and stepped back. "If this is a Angel talk, you need to share with Sam. He's your bonded partner now."

Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion. "I know we are chained, but you..."

Dean gave him a look of frustration. "Castiel, you did the blood-brother thing with Sam. And I suggest you be straight with him before he has to go to Bobby about whatever it is you've been sittin' on."

Castiel nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. Maybe another time. But that was the problem. He was running out of time.

Before Castiel could say more, Dean turned and walked over to the counter. Castiel frowned in frustration. Why was he being so difficult? What had happened?

He bit down on his frustration and joined the brothers as they leaned over the new book. It looked old with pages edged in faded gold from many years of page turning. The image that met Castiel's gaze made his blood run cold. A man astride a dragon. Long beard and an arrow gripped in his hand. It was an image he had lived with daily until his banishment.

"Castiel," Sam read aloud, "angel of temperance. Also the angel of Thursday."

Castiel felt tight and uncomfortable. "Why did you procure this book?"

Sam shrugged, looking up and seeing his discomfort. "Oh, hey, I just wanted to get to know more about angels in general, ya know?"

"Guy looks bad-ass," Dean grinned. "I don't suppose you left a dragon at home, did ya?"

"No. Of course not," Castiel said.

"Hey, you never know," Dean shrugged, flipping through the pages randomly.

Castiel suddenly felt like he could no longer bottle up what he had to say. If Dean preferred he speak with Sam, maybe speaking to both of them would make them all happier.

"Castiel," Sam said, his forehead crinkled in worried lines, "What is it? What's wrong? I can feel it."

Dean straightened up. "I'll give you two some privacy-"

"No, Dean, please stay," Castiel shot quickly. "I need to tell you both about Gabriel."

The brothers exchanged a look, both sets of Winchester eyes falling squarely to his.

"Gabriel?" Sam said, "This is what you haven't been telling me. What about Gabriel?"

"I know how to find him," Castiel confessed in a rush. Their looks were hard but not yet decided, so Castiel rushed on. "I should clarify, I know where I can meet him in three days. We set up a time and place last time we spoke. I knew he would be in hiding so we planned a date and location just in case."

Neither spoke.

"I would like to go meet with him."

"Jesus, Cas," Dean swore under his breath.

"I know. I should have said something, but I was afraid you would torture me for his whereabouts or harm him."

"Cas," Sam said softly.

"He's my brother. My closest, dearest brother. I have been quite worried about how he has been and I would just like to see him if possible."

Both brothers exchanged a quick softening glance.

"But please," Castiel held a hand up in defense, "please don't capture him or..."

Silence fell between the three of them.

"If I do not meet him, I may never see him again."

Again the brothers exchanged looks.

Silence fell once more and Castiel felt relieved at having told the truth. The chain spell hummed with clear conscious and Castiel could see it in Sam's face as he thought.

"We have to tell the others," Sam said quietly.

"What?" Castiel balked.

"Cas," Dean clarified, "Keepers don't keep secrets from each other. It's part of what keeps us solid."

Castiel wiped sweat from his forehead and kept watching the brothers for any sign of betraying him.

"Are you going to want to bring him back here with you?" Sam asked.

Castiel considered. "If he wanted to, I suppose. But I doubt he would want that."

"I'll call a fucking meeting," Dean said, stepping away and turning back. "But Sam, I swear if you drag this out like the last one, I'm so gonna kick your ass."

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean left.

Cas scowled hard at the retreating back of Dean. Sometimes, like right this moment, Castiel was sure Dean was a jerk. He was rude and insensitive. But it never seemed like enough. As many bad qualities as Castiel could conjure and paint him with, Dean still appealed to him on many levels. Trust being the one that held him fast.

"I'm glad you finally told me what has been bothering you, Cas," Sam said, closing the book. "Tell me about Gabriel."

Castiel smiled sadly. He pushed the rocky, mysterious thoughts about Dean out of his mind and thought about his brother. "Gabriel is very loving. Kind and generous. He is also quite mischievous and argumentative. Honestly, he used to drive me crazy. But I find now that I miss him very much."

"Cas, if he came back here, would he keep our secret?"

"Of that, I have no doubt. He never wished to be a part of the Angels. He truly never did."

Sam nodded solemnly. "Let us do the talking at the meet. We know how to talk to Bobby. He'll listen."

The Keeper meet only lasted not quite an hour. Castiel felt it was extremely fast compared to how such a decision would have been deliberated in the Choir room. Dean seemed displeased, but Castiel was learning that Dean was often displeased. He felt responsible for this mood but could not exactly explain why the Keeper would feel that way toward him. Emotions aside, the meet was quick and to the point. Castiel was allowed to meet Gabriel. If Gabriel chose to come back, he had to go through the same spell as Castiel. This would ensure he was trust-worthy.

Castiel felt quite sure Gabriel would have no wish to return with him. He could not even imagine his brother at Keeper's Cross.

The next day, Dean seemed thrilled to be driving what he described as 'his baby'. Castiel luxuriated in the back seat with its wide, comfortable seat and plenty of leg room. The music blared and the scenery blurred by and Castiel laid his head back, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. Months, even.

Plus, he had hours to watch Dean. He was more relaxed than Castiel had ever seen him. He grinned and sang and teased Sam. Occasionally their eyes met in the rearview mirror but Dean always looked away quickly. As signs and towns sped by, a thought teased at Castiel's mind. It was time to press Dean Winchester. He had waited patiently enough for him to get over whatever was bothering him.

After hours of mind-clearing, nondescript highway, they pulled into a gas station and Castiel stepped out, breathing in the slightly warmer air of Missouri.

"Enjoying the ride?" Dean asked, watching him while he pumped gas.

Castiel remembered himself and gave a slightly embarrassed smile. "I love being on the road. And this car is marvelous."

"Marvelous," Dean repeated, grinning wide. "Damn, Cas, you know how to make a guy grin," he said gliding a hand along the roofline.

Castiel followed the movement, his eyes lingering down Dean's long lines. "Yes, I do," he said, barely above a whisper.

Dean's hand froze, his eyes snapping to Castiel's, searching his face for meaning.

Castiel could feel his face flush with embarrassment at his own forwardness.

"Cas, you want anything to eat?" Sam asked wandering up to them, having missed the prior exchange.

"No," Castiel said. A small smile tugged one corner of his mouth. "Come to think of it, I would enjoy a hotdog."

His mirthful eyes met Dean's, who stood there with an expression of shock.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

The world around him came back to him with a distinct peeing sound splattering his boots. "Son of bitch!" He snapped, releasing the trigger on the gas handle. It was too late. Gasoline had splattered his shoes. "Friggin' perfect," Dean muttered, putting the nozzle away and closing the gas cap. "That's gonna smell nice."

Castiel laughed, not looking at him and Sam looked a little bewildered.

"You want anything to eat, Dean?"

"Nope," he clipped at Sam, getting back in the car.

Castiel chuckled at Dean's discomfort. He had started to give up on Dean. Maybe his kindness had just been pity or maybe he was just trying to get information out of him. His cold shoulder made no sense. Then he had caught an exchange between Dean and Sam. That cold shoulder, perhaps, was nothing more than jealousy. Castiel could only think of one way to test that theory. Flirt. And Dean had reacted in a way that told him he was correct. Dean was jealous of Sam. Their chain. It was ridiculous. Sam was great. But Dean must not understand how his warm hands and beautiful eyes had already left an impression on him. Figuring out how to chip into that cold shoulder was another thing. Apparently rattling him was one way to break through. Or drive him further away. Castiel sighed, taking his seat in the back. It seemed everything in his life was constantly being weighed and measured by others. The grin slid slightly at the scowl on Dean's face.

Sam pulled the front door open, sitting with a huff. "Man! That gas stinks!"

Dean scowled a bit deeper and pulled off. Castiel ate his hotdog, rolling the window down slightly to let out the gas fumes. He could not stop the chuckle that rumbled softly as he bit into the hotdog. He did not look into the rearview mirror, but he could feel Dean's eyes all the same.

Castiel sat stiffly at a small table outside an ice cream shop. He and Gabriel had killed their first demon in this small town. They had celebrated with ice cream. Anyone else would have wanted to go for drinks but Gabriel was always in search of sweets. After the high of their victory, bowls empty with scrapings of fudge left behind, Gabriel had started talking. It had started simply enough. Castiel had asked if Gabriel had a good time on a date he had been on a week ago. Gabriel had confessed the date was a bust. And suddenly he was unleashing all the things he hated about being an Angel. Castiel supported him whole heartedly. Not out of brotherly loyalty. They were both disgusted by the endless talk of bloodlines and the useless preaching that it was a 'sin' for him to be attracted to men. When the brothers discovered they had both been living with the secret of being homosexual, it was a turning point in their lives. From that moment on, the pair were inseparable. Castiel had taken a lot of flack over the next few years for always defending Gabriel and his antics. When he was banished, Castiel was immediately under suspicion. It had not taken long for them to discover all their similarities.

Across the gravel parking lot, the brothers sat nonchalantly on the trunk of the Impala eating cones slowly. It was cold and there were few people around. Castiel sipped his coffee again, feeling the warmth seep into him. A sandy haired man pulled up in a small blue Honda and Castiel's heart felt near to bursting.

He quickly walked to the car as Gabriel stepped out.

"Gabriel," Castiel whispered, hugging him fiercely.

"Hey there, Cassie," Gabriel said, voice trembling only slightly as he hugged back just as tight.

"I'm not alone," Castiel said, switching to Enochian to give his brother one chance to run.

"Why? Who is here?" He asked, switching to the speech Angels used, eyes darting.

"I was injured recently and I am now staying with Hunters. And Keepers."

"Keepers?" Gabriel asked, incredulous.

Castiel nodded.

"Are you safe? Do we need to run?" Gabriel asked, his light brown eyes searching and landing squarely on the brothers.

"No, I don't. I trust them."

Gabriel grinned. "This could be just the thing I need."

The brothers crossed the stoney lot, Sam and Dean standing more at attention now.

Switching back to English, Gabriel stuck his hand out with his typical crooked grin. "Nice to meet you, I'm Gabriel."

They shook hands and Gabriel blew out a breath. "So...Hunters."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and nodded.

"And what exactly are your intentions with my little brother?"

Sam huffed a laugh. Dean, however, cleared his throat. "We took him in after he got shot. Now he's chain spelled to Sam for our protection. He's staying with us for awhile until he gets his feet under him again."

"Chain spell, huh," Gabriel grinned, his eyes ticking from one brother to the next. And just that quickly, Gabriel read the situation and knew exactly what his little brother was dealing with. He gave Castiel a grin and a wink. Castiel rubbed the back of his neck, remembering why exactly it was so embarrassing having him around.

"Oh, this is gonna be fun." Gabriel turned toward the ice cream shack, "I'm gonna grab a sundae for the road."

"Whoa, whoa," Dean said, all eyes coming back to him. "You think you want to come with us?"

"I know I do," Gabriel said seriously.

"Well, it ain't just that easy."

"Oh, okay," Gabriel grinned, swaying with dramatic flair. "What do I gotta do? Say the magic word? Learn the secret hand shake?"

"Somethin' like that," Sam said seriously.

Gabriel's grin sobered and he stood up straighter. "Look, my brother trusts you. And I need you."

"You need us?" Dean asked, looking to Castiel but only seeing he was confused as well.

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded. "I've been out here a while now. And I came across a spell that just might prove useful. But, I need some help with it. And I think you just might be the boys that can help me."

"Help you what exactly?" Sam asked.

Gabriel grinned up at all three of them. "How would you boys like to help me even the playing field on the Angel assholes?"

"Yeah? How." Dean pressed.

"Look, I know Cassie trusts you, but I'm not about spilling all my secrets quite yet. Gotta have some reason to keep me around!"

"Gabriel," Castiel said with heart, "I want you with me, so we can become Hunters together."

"And run from the sibs forever?" Gabriel laughed bitterly. "No, Cassie, we need to put those bastards in their place. I am NOT running forever." His face had gone from sarcastic to an anger that surprised even Dean.

"Okay," Sam said, eyebrows quirked high, "so you are serious. But you have to know that we are going to need to chain spell you to one of us. For our protection."

Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. "Do I get to pick? Cause I pick tall, dark and Eddie Bower here."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Sorry, he's taken."

"Oh, that's right. Lucky bastard, Cassie."

"Yeah. Lucky Cassie," Dean said snidely.

Both Castiel and Sam rolled their eyes and Gabriel burst out laughing. "Well then I pick Han Solo here, since Chewy's taken."

Dean snorted and Sam sighed.

"Alright," Dean said, "let's go. You can follow me."

"Follow you? Oh, in that piece of crap?" He jerked a thumb toward the car. "Nah, better not. I stole it two towns ago. Likely to draw police attention."

Dean sighed, obviously not relishing the thought.

"Kay! Like I said! This is gonna be fun!" He slapped Dean on the shoulder and ambled toward the ice cream shack.

"Freakin' Angels," Dean muttered.

Even twelve hours of open road was not enough freedom when Gabriel inhabited the back seat. He was nothing like Castiel. At all. He was talkative and nosy. He complained endlessly about the gasoline smell from Dean's shoes. He flirted out-right with he and Sam. They looked nothing alike.

"So, you two have the same parents, right?" Dean asked, surprising even himself when he broke his silent streak.

"Half right, Dean-O. We have the same father but different mothers."

"Oh."

"Our lineage, our DNA is altered to get the results they want. I happen to be a crossover of both Archangel and 'days of the week' Angel."

"Well aren't you special," Dean muttered.

"Oh yes. Very special. Half the playtime and twice the responsibility. Let's just say, I did not fit the part well."

Dean swallowed his teasing retort when he heard that bitter, severe edge to Gabriel's voice. He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught sight of Castiel's blue eyes. "Did you grow up in the same house?" Dean asked.

The pair of angels exchanged a look and Castiel answered. "We grew up in the same building. We were together much of the time but did not share quarters."

Dean thought on that as the road went by. The same building. Quarters. "So, you guys-"

"Dean," Castiel said firmly.

"Sorry." He went back to being silent. While Castiel had learned to relax and spoke about many things, he still refused to talk about Angel HQ. Dean was starting to put a picture together though. Multiple large buildings that fronted as some corporation. Tall towers, so they had to be old, not a sleek, square building. Probably in a city type area. Yeah, he still had pretty much nothing.

As they pulled into the familiar alley that ran between the backs of the stores and the apartment building, Dean glanced in his rearview mirror. Cas and Gabe were still out cold. Sam had drugged their coffee this morning in the motel room and they had been out the entire day. Sam jumped out to open the garage door and Dean pulled his baby into the storage unit. He sighed heavily, leaving the sanctuary of his baby. Sam helped Dean get Castiel onto one shoulder and he carried Gabe down to the research room under the bookstore. They sat them in two comfortable chairs next to the fireplace.

"Tie them?" Sam asked.

"No." Dean positioned Castiel's head so he wouldn't wake up with a cramp in his neck. If he touched his hair or cheek, it was totally accidental. Totally.

Castiel woke, his world ripping into consciousness and he swatted away the offensive pouch Charlie was waving under his nose.

"Uhh!" He complained, Charlie backing up with an apologetic smile. The smelling salts was taken away hastily and Castiel looked over to Gabriel who had a disgusted look on his face laced with some confusion at where he was. Castiel, of course, recognized the research library and knew they had been drugged for an entire day to arrive back at Keeper's Cross.

"I understand keeping the location a secret from Gabriel," Castiel complained, "but I already know where we are. Why drug me?"

"Sorry Cas," Sam said with apology. "We needed to be sure you were both on board with our requests."

Castiel made a face as if to say all the Keepers were being ridiculous.

"Nice digs," Gabriel sneered, "for a bunch of Hobbits maybe."

The Keepers were all gathered. Gabriel's history had been reported to the group and a blood sample had been taken.

Dean handed them each a bottle of water. "I'm sure you're pissed," Dean said dryly. "I would be. But this is how it has to be done."

Gabriel looked to his brother and in Enochian said, "These apes are ridiculous. You really trust them?"

Castiel nodded grimly.

"Yeah, see, that's not too trust-worthy right there," Dean said. "Speak English."

Gabriel rolled his eyes and settled into a tight scowl.

"So, I understand you want to level the playing field against Angels hunting demons," Bobby said.

"Yes," Castiel answered for him. "He read about a spell and thinks we may be able to adapt the spell. But he needs help."

Bobby's eyes flicked between the two brothers thoughtfully. "And you submit to a chain spell, Gabriel?"

Gabriel blew out a breath, looking along the wall of books. "Fine. Whatever."

"Who is he chaining to?" Sam asked, sitting the familiar bowl on the nearest table, already loaded with ingredients.

"I'll do it," Dean said sourly.

"I could do it," Bobby said, holding a glare with the Angel.

"Look, no offense to you, trucker Joe, but I prefer Dean. In fact, I insist."

"Why?" Bobby asked.

"Personal preference," Gabriel said sternly.

Bobby and Dean exchanged a look, Dean shrugging. "Fine with me," Bobby relented.

Dean and Gabriel cut their arms, read the spell three times and burned it.

Dean could feel a tickling in his mind like an itch that made him shiver.

"And you're already making me tingle in my shorts, Dean-O," Gabriel snickered.

Dean smirked back at him.

"So, on with the plan, Gabriel," Bobby growled.

Gabriel cleared his throat and Dean could feel a surge of openness. "I found a book. I've been doing some digging. The book has a spell to find Lucifer. I believe the angels, the real ones, used this spell to find Lucifer near the end. Since Lucifer was the first demon, all other demons are spawn of his. So, I think we can find a way to alert us when any demon is walking the earth. Sound fun?"

Bobby turned to Dean. "You buyin' this?"

Dean shrugged. "Sounds like bullshit. But he's being honest."

"Wow," Charlie said, "I mean that could really give us an advantage over Angels. Plus, demons with alarm systems sounds perfect to me."

The Keepers all nodded in turn.

"So where's this spell?" Dean asked.

"In my bag. In a book."

Dean nods, reaching behind the table and tossing Gabriel's backpack onto his lap. "Show us."

In Enochian, Gabriel turns to Castiel again. "This better work, brother. There's no love here, that's for damn sure. You really want to stick with this lot?"

In Enochian, Castiel answered him. "Just have a little faith. And trust in me. Brother."

"Alright," Dean spat, "Knock that shit off right now."

"Why, Dean," Gabriel smirked, "my chain is bubbling. Is that anger?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "If you gotta ask, then I must not be too mad. Trust me. You'll know when I've had enough of your shit."

"Good to know." Gabriel stood up, clapping his hands together. He bent over and pulled a book from his bag. It was tiny. No bigger than the palm of his hand.

"May I see that?" Sam asked, holding his hand out.

"Careful there, Stretch, books can hurt you."

Dean snatched the book and smacked it into Sam's out-stretched palm. "Quit being a dick."

Gabriel scoffed. "Me?"

"What language is this?" Sam asked in a hushed voice.

"It's Enochian," Castiel said quietly. "Language-"

"Of the angels!" Sam's eyes were lit up like Christmas.

"Like, real angels?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah!" Sam laughed incredulously. His face sobered. "You can read this?"

"Like a Betty Crocker cookbook," Gabe grinned.

"Amazing," Sam murmured.

"Is that what language you two were speaking?" Dean asked with arms crossed over his chest and his eyes going from one to the other.

"Yes," Castiel said.

Gabriel just smirked.

"You speak Enochian," Sam asked in awe.

"Yep," Gabriel answered.

"Wow," Sam murmured, blushing, and looked back to the small book.

Gabriel's smirk softened a bit. Castiel prayed his brother could follow enough rules to actually stay here. It made him stress.

The Keepers left, trickling out in pairs as the two sets of brothers leaned over the tiny book.

"May I?" Gabriel asked, knowing Sam was flipping through with no point of reference.

Sam grinned sheepishly and handed the tiny book back.

"Got a white board?" Castiel asked.

"Uh. No. How about paper and pencil?" Sam offered.

Sam got paper and pencil and the four men sat at one of the tables to decipher the spell from Enochian to English.

"Dean," Castiel said quietly, as Gabriel began explaining the language to Sam. "Why did you want to chain yourself to Gabriel?"

Dean's eyes slid over to the sandy-haired Angel. "Guess I needed to know just how this chain spell works."

Castiel's eyes narrowed slightly. "And...are you finding yourself drawn to him, like you have accused of Sam and I?"

"Oh yeah," Dean smirked. "I'm already making plans on just how I can woo him."

"Dean," Castiel sighed in annoyance.

"Just kidding, Colombo."

Castiel gave Dean an unamused look and went back to the text.

Finally the spell was translated into English so they could all follow along. They spent hours, Castiel and Gabriel mostly, adjusting the spell's ingredients to bend it to what they wanted. The logic seemed full proof. The new spell was finally set down on paper and they all looked over it again.

"I have all these ingredients here except Demon blood and, oh yeah, a feather from Lucifer himself." Sam gave Gabriel a look of frustration. "Does that kind of feather actually exist?"

Castiel and Gabriel exchanged a look. "It does. And I know where to get one."

"Gabriel," Castiel said nervously, "how will we possibly get it?"

"Wait," Dean held a hand out, "you actually know where a feather from Lucifer is?"

"Yes," the brothers answered solemnly.

"Where?" The Winchester brothers shot back.

"Angel headquarters, as you call it," Castiel answered.

"Dude," Sam guffawed, "Lucifer's feather?"

"Okay," Gabriel intoned, "Angel history 101, pay attention, there will be a quiz."

Dean and Sam sat back giving the pair a disbelieving look.

"When Lucifer was cast down into Hell, his feathers were stripped first. They were all burned in holy oil, except for six. Each of Lucifer's Archangel brothers and sisters were given a feather to carry with them so they would always remember that their brother fell. A reminder of what not to do, so to speak. We know of two here on Earth. Both are at the 'Angel headquarters'."

"Wow," Dean murmured.

"Holy oil?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Castiel answered.

"Jesus," Dean said, rubbing a hand over his mouth in thought.

"We do not have anything of Jesus'."

Gabriel, Sam and Dean all gave Castiel a flat look. He shrugged under the stares.

"I assume breaking into Angel headquarters is going to be insanely difficult," Dean said.

"Yes. And we need to be there because we know exactly what we are looking for and where they are. You two do not need to come," Gabriel said.

"What?" Sam gave Dean a worried look, his forehead wrinkling. "Yes we do! We're coming! What if you need back-up? What if something goes wrong?"

The brothers exchanged looks, Gabriel not sold, Castiel leaning toward letting them come.

Dean could feel the tug on his chain to Gabriel. The need to hide something. Dean pushed back, pressing the need-to-know vibe as strong as possible.

"Alright!" Gabriel scowled, shivering and looking at Dean accusatorially. "Quit yankin' my chain! Fine, I guess you can come. But you can't hold it against us if you don't make it out alive, because intruders are killed on sight. Shoot first, ask questions later kind of deal."

Dean nodded.

"Do you have demon blood there as well?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded. "Plenty of it too."

"Why?" Dean asked. "What do you do with it?"

"You really don't want to know," Gabriel grinned.

Dean glared, his eyes sliding over to Castiel.

"We might as well tell them," Cas said. "We have no reason to hide it."

Gabriel thought a moment, Dean feeling the indecision to release such information. Finally the strain eased, the buzz going back to a softer, pliable thought. "Fine."

Castiel cleared his throat. "What I am about to tell you is kept very secret among Angels. Being of higher rank, we know more than most of our brothers and sisters. For Gabriel, he was taught every detail in order to train him as a leader." Castiel shifted in his seat, eyes dropping to his clasped hands on the table. "Demon blood is used when we know of a demon and are hunting it. More importantly, the blood is used to make our tattoos."

"Aw, gross!" Dean sat back in disgust.

"Dean," Sam said, more polite and politically correct than Dean would ever be.

"What, come on! Demon blood? Does it make you sick?" Dean asked, obviously disgusted.

"No. It does not make us sick. It is used to make the dye. The tattoos react when a demon is nearby," Castiel continued.

"React?" Sam asked. "How so?"

"They...tingle."

"Like Frodo's sword to Orcs," Dean nodded.

Castiel gave him a confused look and Gabriel rolled his eyes and said yes.

"Come on, Cas, Lord of the Rings?" Dean asked aside.

"I have heard of it," Castiel nodded.

"Dude!" Dean shook his head in wonderment.

"The tattoos," Castiel continued again, looking at Sam this time, "are done with Lucifer's feather. That is why Gabriel thinks the feather will act as a beacon to point out demons."

"Where did you get it?" Sam asked in awe.

"The feather?" Gabriel clarified. "The angel Gabriel, the real one, gave it to our founding father, also a Gabriel. It has been used for tattoos ever since."

"Way too many Gabriels," Dean sighed.

"And the other one?" Sam asked.

"The other feather was from the angel Michael. He said he needed no reminder of why he forever hated his brother."

The four men sat quietly for several moments. The information was overwhelming. Sharing the information was the last thread of protection against their family. Dean could tell that Gabriel was not bothered. Castiel on the other hand, looked like he was feeling guilty.

"They deserve this, Cassie," Gabriel said quietly. "These douchebags are not the same people the angels helped years ago. Our 'family' thinks they are superior to everyone. That their blood is special. That they know everything God ever taught and don't question their interpretation of it. The real angels made a deal forever ago. What the Angels are now is a bastardization of what was supposed to be. Typical. Anytime you give people power, they warp it into their own mis-use. They deserve what's coming to them."

"I know," Castiel nodded.

"They would have killed me."

"I know," Castiel looked his brother in the eye.

"They would have killed you."

"I know!" Castiel snapped.

"And they will kill us if they get a chance."

"He knows!" Dean and Sam snapped, seeing Castiel start to rub his forehead.

"They will hunt us like dogs," Gabriel said heatedly. "They have to be stopped or Castiel and I are already dead."

"We know," Dean said tightly. "We will help you both."

"But that's just it," Gabriel sat back, looking over the brothers, "we got no way out of this shit show. Why are you two willing to die over it?"

"Well for one," Dean said, leaning forward and locking gazes with Gabriel, "we aren't dying. Two, you aren't dying. Three, those assholes have been like a monkey on our backs for centuries. If I can level the playing field and knock them down a peg or two, score one for the Keepers. Or Hunters. And four, if you two made it out, how many there are too afraid to leave and can't?"

Gabriel nodded. "Alright. So, let's do this."

"You said you needed us when we met," Sam said.

Gabriel sighed, looking away and back, one eyebrow lifting. "I wanted to bring the feather to you guys. I didn't think you actually wanted in the action." He shook his head ruefully. "I shoulda known better. Buncha cowboys." He sat back, shrugging. "Besides, before I just thought it would be great to elevate you cowboys to the same playing field as the Angels. Now, I might actually like you guys."

"So you like being drugged, cut up, chain spelled and worked like a dog," Dean smirked. "Good to know."

Gabe laughed, Castiel giving Dean a horrified look. Whether he was worried Dean was liking Gabriel too much or just the crass sense of humor, Dean could only guess. Either way, it was funny.

The next day, the reference room was where the four plus Bobby spent most of the day. Dean continued to find Gabriel both annoying and funny. Cas and Sam got up to help Charlie with a patron in the bookshop, leaving the pair alone in the reference room.

Gabe sat back, opening a candy bar and taking a bite. "Can't help but notice how you keep giving my brother the stink eye, Dean-o. What gives?"

Dean furrowed his brow, leaning back in his own chair to look at Gabe. "I don't have a problem with Cas."

Gabe chewed with the tiniest grin. "So what's up with all the glaring? Sammy?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "No. Just...drop it."

"Hi, nice to meet you," Gabe grinned, "I'm Gabriel Novak and I don't drop anything. Ever."

Dean sighed.

"Your chain is bugging the shit outta me, man! You have so much pent up bullshit going on that it's itching my brain."

Dean grimaced.

"So...you have a thing for my brother." Gabe popped another bite of candy bar into his mouth. Dean envisioned his fist smashing right into it.

"And there go the angry bubbles," Gabe laughed.

"Enjoying yourself?" Dean growled.

"Not particularly. You really gotta ease up on the pent up angst."

"Well, I don't have a thing for your brother." Dean was hit by a wave of nausea.

"That was a lie," Gabe said, sitting forward, his grin dropping. "I knew it."

Dean took a deep breath, trying not to hurl. "Fine. I have a thing," he muttered. The nausea left and Gabe grinned again.

"Yeah, well, I have a thing for your brother," Gabe winked.

Dean rolled his eyes again.

"He's pretty hot," Gabe smiled.

"Shut up, Gabe."

"Like, a ten. A twenty, even."

"Gabe."

The door at the top of the steps opened and Gabe looked toward the open door with an eager grin.

"Watch and learn, Winchester. Play your cards right, and you too can be dancin' the horizontal mambo tonight."

Dean sighed loudly, dropping his head into his hand. "Gabe, please shut up."

"Don't worry, Deanie, your secret is safe with me." Gabe winked and Dean felt more stressed than he had in a long time. So maybe he had a thing for the guy. Maybe not. It was more than he wanted to think about.

The rest of the day was full of Gabe flirting with Sam. To his surprise, Sam picked up on it pretty quickly and Dean wanted to curl into a ball and hide when Sam started flirting back. Cas looked shyly amused when he caught on. All it did for Dean was heighten his sense of discomfort.


	6. Chapter 6

Fun Fact- Angel Headquarters is an actual location. Check out the building. It's pretty cool and worked perfectly for them.

Also, all angels mentioned can be googled if you want to see the images of them that I am describing. :)

Chapter 6. The Divine Loraine

"You know we cannot return here," Castiel said, following Dean and Sam through the record store and down the back stairs. They had come up with a 'plan' and had another brief meeting to share their ideas and Bobby approved. "At least not until we are sure the Angels are not following us."

"I know," Dean sighed, unlocking the door to the weapons shop.

As much as the four of them had talked, which was patchy at best, the past few days were not leaving Castiel with a firm lay-out of what would happen. It was never how he would run a hunt. But he surrendered his militant battalion leader ways for the cowboy approach the Winchesters preferred.

Sam laid two large, empty duffel bags on the large white table in the center of the room, unzipping them.

"The hope is those bastards won't want to follow us for too long," Gabriel mused, walking the perimeter of the room and looking at the vast array of guns, knives, swords, stakes, and other odds and ends that were weapons of some sort. "Damn. Nice collection, Winchester."

"Absolutely," Dean grinned proudly. "I got every weapon we know is out there."

Gabriel picked up a small felt sack, studying it.

Dean took it gingerly out of his hand and placed it back in the box with the rest. "Hex bags."

"Seriously?" Gabriel scoffed. "I hate witches."

"You and me both," Dean huffed, eyeing the collection of bags warily. "But some of their shit comes in handy."

"So, what should we pack?" Sam asked.

Castiel and Gabriel patrolled the room, deep in thought.

"We should be armed well," Castiel said. "Do you have guns with silencers?"

"Come on, Cas!" Dean scoffed. He pulled open a drawer showing rows of black cylinders.

"Good," Castiel grinned, his eyes going to Dean's. "Those."

"Alright," Dean said, going to work. He pulled eight handguns off the wall, placing them on the table and one by one attaching silencers. Sam placed them into one of the duffel bags with boxes of coordinating ammo.

Knives and daggers were added to the second bag. Three high powered rifles with scopes were added.

Gabriel picked up a hex bag, giving Dean a questioning eyebrow waggle.

"Yeah, let's bag those separate."

The duffels were carried up to a car that sat in the alley waiting for them.

"Not the Impala?" Castiel asked.

"No, sadly," Dean said, closing the duffels in the trunk. "The Angels tracked our car at one point, so we can't risk it. We shouldn't even have taken it to get Gabe, but...I miss driving that car."

Castiel nodded. "That's too bad. That car seems to make you happy."

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah. She does."

"We should get some sleep," Sam said. "Gabe, would you like to see those Cuneiform books I was telling you about first?"

"Sure thing, Samsquatch," Gabe grinned. The pair disappeared into Sam's back door and Dean laughed.

"What?" Castiel asked.

"Nothing. Gabriel. His little hidden agenda there isn't too subtle."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked.

Dean grinned. "Your brother is into my brother. Big time."

"Oh," Castiel grinned. "I did not know you were aware."

"Yeah." Dean headed for his own shop.

"Are you going to show me some of your CD's?" Castiel asked with a grin tugging one corner of his mouth.

"Sure," Dean shrugged, going through the back door into the Cloud record shop.

Castiel shook his head at Dean's own cluelessness. People often teased him for missing jokes, puns, or flirting. Dean was proving quite dense right now.

No one else was in the record shop, it being after hours on a Saturday night. He hesitated suddenly, turning back to give Cas a suspicious look.

"What?" Cas chuckled.

Dean shrugged his thoughts off, catching those blue eyes and looking away quickly. "Want to hear something? Rock? Grunge? Blues? What do you like?"

"Anything," Cas grinned.

"What?" Dean asked again, knowing there was more to that grin than what he was saying.

"What?" Cas chuckled. "I like record-store Dean."

Dean's mouth opened and closed, but he had no witty come back for that. Instead, he went over to the corner at the back where oriental rugs took up the floor space. Three chairs, a wall of guitars, and an amp made the corner cozy. "Do you play, Cas?"

"Not really," Castiel grinned, blushing slightly.

"What?" Dean asked.

"You...I like it when you call me Cas."

Dean rubbed at his mouth, blushing.

Castiel turned fully toward him. "You called me Castiel for two weeks after I did the chain spell with Sam. Which was not even my choice, by the way."

Dean huffed nervously. "Guess I did. I was just..."

"Being a dick?" Castiel asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he took a step toward Dean.

"I was gonna say, 'pissed'," Dean corrected, fighting a grin.

Castiel bit his bottom lip, letting his teeth slide slowly over it until it hung slightly open.

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, uh, you wanted to hear some music?"

Castiel's eyes softened from their penetrating search.

Dean felt a surge of openness from Gabriel's chain and saw Castiel twitch his shoulders slightly.

"Seems like our brothers are sharing some intimate secrets," Castiel grinned slightly.

"Is that what that is?" Dean asked, face flushing and he stepped over to the wall, pulling down a sleek red and white electric guitar. "Want to play?"

"No, thanks," Castiel sighed.

Dean licked his lips nervously. He was pretty sure Castiel was flirting with him. And he really just wasn't sure what to do with that. He kept his focus on the guitar and tuned it while Castiel slowly paced the nearby CD rack.

"What do you want to hear?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked at him for a long moment and said, "know any Nirvana?"

"Nirvana? Sure. Didn't peg you for an Alternative fan. Figured you for a Dylan fan."

Castiel huffed. "I like Dylan. I like a lot of music, Dean."

"Cool," Dean grinned, strumming the strings to warm up. He started the chords to "Teen Spirit," and grinned when Cas nodded along.

"You don't sing?" Castiel asked, coming closer to Dean, perched on his stool.

"Sometimes." He turned off the amp and unplugged the guitar, standing and returning it to the wall, Castiel stepping back to make room. "If I sing, I prefer acoustic. He picked up an acoustic guitar that was leaning in the corner. He was struggling with Castiel's openness. His flirting. There was no denying the heated look in those blue eyes. But Dean was used to being the flirt. He felt off his game and at a disadvantage, putting him on guard.

Castiel sat in the chair nearby, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms over his chest with a gentle smile.

"Play something you like," Castiel said quietly.

Dean nodded. He settled in and shivered when he felt a surge along his chain, encouraging him to be open, honest. He scowled, fighting the urge and focusing on the guitar. He sang "Ramblin' On" and then "Freebird".

Castiel watched dreamily from his seat while Dean got lost in the music.

Dean sat the guitar on the floor, the body between his knees. He let out a steadying breath as he was aware of Castiel's blue eyes on him again.

"You have a great voice," Castiel said quietly.

Dean nodded, his lips unable to open in response.

Castiel grinned and got to his feet. "See you in the morning, Dean."

"Yeah," he said in a hushed voice, eyes staying on the guitar in his hands.

He bit his lip, fighting with himself on what to say, what move to make, what to do. Finally, he swallowed hard and said in a small voice, "Would you like to come up to my apartment for a beer?"

No response. Dean looked up and realized he was alone. Cas had left.

His shoulders dropped in disappointment and he sighed heavily. "Damnit."

The morning came bright and early. Jo would be running the record shop and Charlie would be running the bookstore. Bobby was tracking every move they would make, thanks to Ash chipping all of them and their car. Gabriel had argued and argued that chipping them could be dangerous, Castiel agreeing, but Bobby put his foot down and demanded that if his boys were leaving he would damn-well know where they were.

Dean had a headache an entire day thanks to how riled up Gabriel was.

"Morning," Dean smirked, seeing Gabriel and a blushing Sam come out of Sam's back door.

"Good night?" Dean smirked harder.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam said, getting in the passenger seat.

"Better than yours, dickwad," Gabriel smirked back sending a surge of annoyance along their chain.

Dean rolled his eyes but said nothing. He looked off to the side, watching Castiel walk across the alley, the creeper trench coat Chuck had given Cas billowing out.

"Cas," Dean said tightly, not making eye contact.

Castiel grinned at the nickname. "Dean."

Gabriel laughed. "This is gonna be a long damn ride, isn't it?"

"Shut up, Gabriel," Cas and Dean said in unison.

"Ah, yeah," Gabriel pulled a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and got into the backseat behind Sam.

Dean and Cas exchanged a brief look, Dean's nervous, Castiel's amused.

"Get in," Dean said in a gruff voice, making Castiel smile harder as he got in behind the driver's seat. Dean got behind the wheel and started the red Subaru. He pulled out of the alley and onto Powder House Road, stopping next to the Roadhouse. Ellen walked up to the car quickly, Sam rolling down his window.

"Boys," she grinned. "Thought you might want breakfast for the road."

"Thank you, Ellen," Sam said, the rest giving her a wave.

Becky came rushing up behind her, arms full of coffees. She handed them one by one to Sam. "Good luck," she said tearfully.

"Good God woman," Ellen rolled her eyes, "they'll be back before you know it."

"I know," Becky said bravely. "Stay safe, Sam."

"We will," Sam grinned, handing two coffees back to the Angels.

They pulled off, turning onto Madison Street, passing the Roadhouse and Bobby's Garage. They headed through the north end of town and got onto I90 east.

"Sausage, egg, and cheese burritos," Sam grinned.

"I love Ellen," Gabriel said, taking two.

"Everybody loves Ellen," Dean grinned, unwrapping one for himself.

After 14 hours driving, Dean pulled into a motel. He could have gone longer, but Gabriel and Sam were both bitching. So they stopped in Lordstown, Ohio, just outside Pennsylvania.

"Lordstown? Really?" Gabriel smirked.

"Could be worse," Dean grinned, "coulda been Angel Falls or Heaven, or-"

"I think it's funny we're going to Philadelphia," Sam grinned, the other three looking at him. "City of brotherly love!" Everyone rolled their eyes and Sam laughed. "No?" No one laughed. "Fine, I'll get the rooms."

He came out moments later with two keys.

He tossed one to Dean, who caught it, shouldered his bag and stepped up to the room that was his. Sam grabbed his bag and went to the next room over, putting the key in the knob.

"Sam," Dean said, confused. "What are you doing?"

"Going to my room," Sam grinned, opening the door and Gabriel winking as he followed Sam inside. The door snapping shut with a final click.

"Son of bitch-" Dean muttered. He turned around to see Castiel giving him a hard look. "Okay!" He huffed, opening the door.

"Don't worry, Dean," Cas said in a low voice, eyes flinty, "I won't sully your reputation." He disappeared into the room and Dean sighed heavily.

"Oh boy."

Dean stepped into the room and closed the door. The room was empty and the bathroom door was closed tightly, water running.

Dean pulled out his phone and texted Sam, 'I fuckin' hate you right now.'

Again he felt that surge of pushing openness from Gabe.

'Tell Gabe to shove it.'

He shoved his phone in his back pocket and sat on the edge of the bed.

Castiel came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but blue boxer-briefs and a white t-shirt. He tossed his clothes on top of his bag on the dresser and got into the empty bed.

"Cas," Dean said quietly.

Castiel turned, his blue eyes open and so blue it made Dean's breath catch. "Good night, Dean. Big day tomorrow."

Dean nodded, looking down at his hands as Castiel shifted in bed. He wanted to stand up, cross the gigantic, Grand Canyon sized cavern between the two beds and sit next to him, lean down and kiss him until he was pulling Dean's clothes off in a mad rush to touch bare skin. Instead, he got up and took a cold shower. He needed focus. They were breaking into Angel HQ tomorrow. He needed his head in the game. The Hunter game. Not his own personal game. Which, he still totally had game. So, he was a little off his game. Dean pressed his forehead against the wall of the shower, water streaming down his body. He was totally off his game. The car ride had not helped. Between Gabe and Sam's continued flirting and Gabe yanking on his mental chain, Dean had been beyond grouchy. Castiel's patience with him had gone from wavering this morning to totally irritated. Just wait until they had conquered the Angels. He'd show Cas just how much of a player he could be.

As he toweled off, a thought struck him. What if something happened and they never got to do this...thing. He felt torn more than ever as he stepped into the bedroom.

"Cas," he said quietly.

Nothing.

His even breathing told him he was asleep.

Dean got into his own bed, his brow tight in frustration and his self-imposed celibacy really starting to piss him off.

The morning started quietly, the four loading into the Subaru.

"Let's go over the plan," Dean said gruffly.

Sam started, Gabriel and Castiel joining as Dean nodded along with each step.

Four hours later, Dean weaved through tight traffic in downtown Philadelphia. "There it is," Castiel pointed as they made their way up Ridge Street.

Dean could see the 11 story building coming up on their right. It was brown stone and square with huge windows coming down in columns. Two square peaks crowned the top at each front corner. Two more could barely be seen at the back. A large sign perched on the roof read, 'Divine Loraine Hotel'. In the center of the front side, two, three-story arches displayed beautiful architecture within the outer walls. Along the street, six, twelve foot arches of stained glass flanked the giant arched doorway in the center. Double pillars flanked a statue of grey stone. An angel. Behind the statue, two great red, wooden doors that looked like they belonged on a castle, stood ominously as the only entrance on this side.

"This entrance is kept locked by crossbars and alarms inside," Castiel said quietly.

"This place is a friggin' fortress, right here in the middle of the city!" Dean said, turning right onto Broad. From Broad Street, this side was lined much like the other, with balconies on the top floors and the rear towers coming into view. From the archways on this side, you could see the building was a giant block with a courtyard in the center.

"It functions as business offices on the bottom floor and Angel quarters and all other places needed for Angel training are on the other floors. It is like a small city unto itself. Before I was ten, I rarely left the walls of The Divine."

"Was it a hotel?" Sam asked.

"1940's to late 90's, yes. Then is was converted to house some of the businesses owned by Angels."

"People just walk past it, like it's totally normal to have a fuckin' fortress in the middle of the city!" Dean said incredulously, looking at the people walking along the sidewalks.

"It's been here since 1892," Gabriel grinned. "It's historic. People just don't even notice."

Dean made another right onto Fairmount Avenue, seeing the third side and rear, which were similar. There was an entrance on Fairmount Avenue in the center of the building, again, an angel statue in front of the main entrance. This giant set of red, wooden doors had normal size doors cut into them, making them more usable.

"So, this is the only entrance?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Gabriel answered.

"Well, that's gotta be a fire hazard," Dean smirked.

"Angels own everything here," Castiel reminded him. "We should not even stop for gas anywhere near here."

Dean nodded, riding down Fairmount Avenue now.

"There are no tall buildings next to it, so there goes any thoughts of building jumping," Sam said. In fact, the rest of the block the Divine Loraine Hotel sat on was grass. Also odd in the city, not that anyone seemed to notice.

"We told you that," Gabriel said with annoyance. "Just follow the plan Cassie and I set. You can't cowboy your way through this."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look, Dean drove around another block, finding a place to park. They were already armed to the teeth, but Sam pulled one duffel out of the trunk, holding two rifles. It was a three block walk to the Divine Loraine Hotel. They were on the other side of the street from the hotel, the 7 lane highway known as North Broad Street running between. A small triangular park was directly across from the hotel. It was a small patch of trees surrounded by asphalt. It was also Fairmount Station, a subway stop. The entrance was along the sidewalk, tucked into the thick umbrella of trees. They went down the stairs heading into the subway station. Grimy tile walls ran long and narrow with flickering florescent lights making the lighting glare, yet poor.

At least ten people stood waiting for the subway. Across the tracks you could make out the narrow walk way that ran down the opposite wall.

The rumble of the train sounded and they all took a moment to catch their breath and clear their minds for the task ahead.

The train came, everyone waiting got on and people got off, quickly exiting up the steps. As the train blurred past them in a loud rumble, they lined up along the thin painted line that told you not to cross it. Once the train was past, they jumped down onto the tracks, crossing and jumping up to the far curb, following the narrow path that disappeared behind the tiled wall. Gabriel and Castiel took the lead, Dean and Sam following. They pulled handguns out as they stealthily walked the path. They turned a corner and Dean heard the muffled sounds of fighting. It was quick and rough, Gabriel knocking out the guard cold. Quickly, they went through a door, Castiel dragging the guard off the path to hide him. They kept the brisk pace through the tunnel that ran under Broad Street until they came to a set of concrete steps with a locked door. Gabriel pulled out a card he had taken off the guard, sliding it through the strip reader, a loud click sounding as the door unlocked. They went straight along a quiet corridor, heading straight for a freight elevator. Once all four were inside, they rode up to the tenth floor. Gabriel and Castiel stepped out first, hall clear and slunk along the hallway. The inside of the building was decorated with white walls and plush rose colored carpet. It was modern and sleek inside, belying the historic, stone exterior. Gabriel and Castiel had chosen today because they knew a special dinner was being hosted on the bottom floor, making the top floors all but deserted. They passed several sets of double doors that were locked. Paintings of angels in battle lined the hallway. Massive paintings of warrior angels, swords in hands, fierce and righteous looks on their pale faces. The people or demons they slayed looked weak and fearful. Dean stopped at a larger than life-size portrait of Michael surrounded by an ox, eagle and lion. His wings were stretched out and his face was peaceful. Dean had to admit, the portraits were intimidating and almost made him feel small. Almost.

Cas tilted his head for Dean to continue following them and he quickly fell in step.

A set of heavily carved and embellished doors stood at the end of the hall. Dean could stand on top of Sam's shoulders and still not have to duck to get through the doors, they were so tall and massive. Just before the doors another set of doors decorated in gold carvings stood to the left. Gabriel laid his hand on the scanner pad next to the door. A click told them that one of their biggest potential problems was no problem at all. Gabriel's hand still unlocked the doors. If they were really lucky, no one would have noticed that the room had been unlocked. And by Gabriel. Once inside, Dean quickly shut the door behind himself.

The room was brightly lit. It was full of ornate cabinets and several large paintings with items in front of them like shrines.

Gabriel went straight to the largest and most ornate cabinet. Sam pulled out the scan jammer Ash had built and sent along. He stuck the card into the slot, a long flat strip of cords hanging from it. Numbers began ticking by, finding the right combination to unlock it.

Dean followed Cas to another cabinet that was not locked. When he opened the doors, rows of canisters sat, shiny and in perfect order.

"This the blood?" Dean asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Yes," Castiel said back quietly. Dean turned around, putting his empty backpack in easy reach. Castiel put four canisters inside, zipping it closed and shut the doors.

Dean began walking the perimeter of the small room. He stopped at the large painting of an angel with gold wings and golden hair. Red robes billowed around her body as her arms stretched upwards, releasing a large white dove. Red strips of fabric hung in a framing curtain to either side of the painting. Under the painting, in a locked glass box, lay a long strip of matching red cloth. "What's that?" Dean whispered.

Castiel came over to join him, looking into the glass box with a curl to his lip. "This is a piece of the robe of the angel Chamuel. He is the angel of omniscient vision. He sees the connection between everyone and everything."

"That's not creepy," Dean winced slightly. "Is the cloth real?"

"The one in the box, yes," Castiel answered, a haunted look crossing his stern face.

"What's it do?" Dean asked, glancing back to see Gabriel and Sam still waiting for the code breaker to finish.

"During marriage rites, the cloth is wound around the wrists of the bride and groom. If Chamuel sees the binding as true, the cloth binds momentarily and supposedly a bond is formed between the pair."

"Supposedly?" Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. "It never worked for me. Or Gabriel."

"Wait," Dean scowled, looking at Cas, "were you married?"

"No," Castiel said deeply. "The Archangels deemed me to be wed to three different women over time. At the ceremony, if the binding cloth does not see the couple as a true pair, they have the opportunity to decline the marriage to wait for their true mate." Castiel's blue eyes went to Dean's. "I declined every time. As did Gabriel."

"And these marriages were appointed by the head honchos?" Dean asked, glaring at the painting and glass box.

"Yes. For bloodline purposes." Castiel stared at the cloth with disgust.

"Hey," Dean said quietly, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "At least you got to say no."

Castiel nodded grimly.

Dean eyed the box. This was part of the system that the brothers hated. Castiel went back to the cabinet with Sam and Gabriel. Dean looked at the painting again. So this was what a cult was like. Forced beliefs and rituals. Believe or die. He reached up to feel one of the red strips that hung to the side. It was silky and thick, rich under his fingertips. The strip dislodged, the end dropping to the floor, leaving Dean holding onto the other end. He looked behind him quickly, seeing that they were all too busy to notice him fucking up their shit. He quickly gathered the strip and shoved it into his coat pocket. It was subtler than trying to rehang it.

The code flashed and the little light next to the lock turned green, the thick metal door releasing with a slight hiss.

"Ash is fucking awesome!" Gabriel chortled, reaching into the cabinet, taking a large, black feather from the center. He slid open a drawer under it's perch, revealing a second feather, just as large and black and shiny. He quickly placed both in a thin velvet lined wood box they had brought just for this purpose. He snapped the box closed, shut the drawer and door, handing the box to Sam who put it into the duffel bag.

"Here," Dean said, "This too." He handed Sam the glass box with the red strip inside. Sam did not even ask, shoving it into the bag and zipping it shut.

Castiel already had the door to the room blocked open so it would not lock. A bullet echoed loudly, tearing a chunk out of the door next to Castiel's head. He shot back, ducking into the room. Guns raised, they all waited only a second before Castiel waved them through. The other three fled the room, Angels appearing at the end of the hall. Gunfire broke out and people dodged to nooks and doorways along the hall. There were too many coming their way.

"Meet at the car!" Gabriel said, shoving Sam through a door. Castiel clamped a hand onto Dean's arm, dragging him down the hall and into the giant doors at the end.

Cas bolted the door from inside. Dean took in the huge room. Tiers lined half the long sides and across the far end. It was a daunting sight. A large book could be seen on a stand in the center of the lowest tier. Murals of angels in battle lined the walls and ceiling.

"Is this where-"

"Where I got my tattoos," Castiel said, dragging Dean to the far end, "where I almost got married, where my name was struck from the book," he said hotly.

"Should we get the book too?" Dean asked, hesitating a step next to the giant gold trimmed book.

"Leave it," Castiel growled, running to the top tier, pressing an inconspicuous panel on the wall, a hidden door opening.

Dean lunged up the tiers and through the door into a narrow hallway. When the door latched shut, they were in complete darkness.

Castiel took Dean's hand. "Quickly," he whispered, Dean holding tight and staying in awkward step immediately behind him. They seemed to follow the long, thin halls for miles, tripping down steep steps and going around corner after corner. Castiel stopped suddenly, opening a panel the tiniest fraction, then bursting into the room, shooting two men, Dean shooting two more. It was a bedroom, thick curtains ten feet tall lined windows the same height, posh bedding and furniture sat pristinely.

"Is this the King's room?" Dean gawked.

"This is my old room," Castiel said, still pulling Dean by the hand as he thrust a drape out of the way and pressed another hidden door open. Dean stood, gawking at a large painting of the angel Castiel. It was similar to the one he saw in the book Sam had bought. He was pulled away by Castiel's insistent hand clutched in his. Again, they traversed thin halls and stairways until Castiel opened a door into the long tunnel that ran under Broad Street.

"Why didn't we take that tunnel from the beginning?" Dean panted.

"It only opens from the inside," Cas puffed back.

Able to see again in the lit tunnel, they ran as fast as they could, dodging bullets and trying to shoot behind them as several Angels chased them.

"Castiel!" One of the men yelled. "Stop!"

They ran, shooting and dodging until they burst back into the subway station and across the tracks, up the steps and into the night. They had waited until sunset to start this recognizance mission so that when they came out, it would be dark.

They ran, dodging traffic, taking alleys and strange turns and pit stops to lose their followers.

After what seemed like hours, they panted to a halt across from the parking lot where the red Subaru still sat.

Dean pulled out his phone, calling Sam.

"Hey, Dean," Sam said in a hushed voice.

"Are you out?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, eyes on the car. Seems clear."

"Good. Get to the car, we're here." He hung up the phone, this time grabbing Castiel's hand as he dodged traffic to cross the street and ran to the car. They all piled in, Dean driving out as nonchalantly as possible.

"Watch for traffic cams, don't look at them or we might end up getting followed," Gabriel warned, pulling a baseball hat low over his brow and handing all of them one as well.

They drove out of the city, eyes low and hearts pounding. Fifteen miles outside city limits, Gabriel sighed a breath of relief. "Dude, we did it."

Castiel's face was still down-turned. Dean was not feeling like the greatest winner either. Sam watched out the passenger window, duffel still on his lap.

"I know that sucked," Sam said to everyone. "I don't know about you guys, but we don't just kill people. Monsters, yes. Regular people, no. But they would have killed us. Did you see the way they looked at you, Gabriel?"

Gabriel nodded. Dean glanced at his brother. "What do you mean?"

"They were so ready to kill him. Destroy him. I can't believe we all made it out."

"Yeah," Dean pursed his lips in frustration, "the night ain't over." He began weaving traffic and they all watched as a black car was trying to follow them. Dean managed to lose the car on a multi-exit exit ramp.

They drove for miles. They pulled over before dawn, Dean re-fueling from his own tanks he had packed.

By noon, they were cruising down I40 through Tennessee. He got off the highway and headed to an old cabin their dad had left them at many years ago.

"I don't know if this place is still standing or someone else might be there, but we'll see," Dean said.

They stopped at a small grocery store, stocking up on essentials they had not already packed. Back on the road, they wound their way into denser back country until the Subaru was clawing its way off road, pulling up to a small cabin.

Finally lurching to a stop, Dean shut the engine off and blew out a breath. No one was around and the place was so over-grown that there could not have been anyone here for quite some time.

They all got out, stretching their legs and looking at the cabin dubiously. Moss covered the roof. Trees, weeds and shrubs looked to be methodically devouring the small wooden shelter. The windows were so dirty you could not see inside and leaves and debris covered the small stoop of a porch.

"Nice," Gabriel sneered.

"Hey, it's safe," Sam said, giving Gabriel a look.

They unloaded bags from the trunk and waded their way to the door.

Dean scooted leaves off the stoop with his foot, tore some errant weeds away, and uncovered a rusty key from under the mat. He fumbled a moment with the stiff lock on the door, finally shoving it open. It was as cold inside as it was outside. Not cold enough to see your breath, but nearly.

It was exactly how Dean had remembered it. Small square table with four wooden chairs in front of a small counter and sink. A stove circa 1950, fridge the same. A fireplace with a couch and two recliners. One closed door that Dean knew was a bedroom with one Full size bed. Thick dust layered every surface but otherwise, the place was clean.

They filed inside, sitting the food supplies on the counter and their bags on the floor. Castiel carried the duffel bag with Angel contents inside, not putting it down.

Sam walked across the living room and opened the bedroom door. "I call the bedroom," he said, walking in.

Dean grit his teeth.

Gabriel grinned victoriously and followed him in.

Dean looked at Castiel and shrugged. "Guess we get to share the couch."

Castiel raised an eyebrow, but otherwise said nothing.

Gabriel came back out glancing around. "Where's the bathroom?"

Dean squinted in thought, looking out one of the windows. "That way. It's an outhouse. There used to be a trail, but...I don't see it anymore."

"Awesome," Gabriel said flatly.

"Hey, only the best for you," Dean smirked, Gabriel flipping him off.

Sam and Gabriel began wiping down every surface. Castiel went to work turning the generator on and turning on the stove and fridge. Dean went outside to gather firewood and hack a new trail to the outhouse. By the time Dean was done with the trail, Sam had a fire going, Castiel had dinner ready, and Gabriel had made the bed and had blankets and pillows stacked by the couch.

"Found the outhouse," Dean said, wiping sweat and grime from his forehead and propping the machete by the door.

"Thanks," Sam said, poking at the fire.

"Dinner is ready," Castiel said, stirring a pot on the stove.

Dean went to the sink and took a clean washcloth off the counter washing his face, neck, arms and hands. He hung his cloth on a peg by the window and turned to the stove. Gabriel and Sam were already sitting at the table eating.

"Smells good," Dean said, taking a steaming bowl from Cas who had dished it up and stood waiting for him.

"Tuna noodle casserole, stovetop style," he said timidly.

"Smells friggin' great," Dean grinned, making Cas smile and look down. He dished himself a bowl and the pair joined the other two at the table. Sam put a can of beer on the table in front of Dean.

"Ya know, all in all, this day went remarkably well," Dean said, taking a long drink.

"It did," Sam agreed.

Gabe and Cas nodded. "Thank you," Gabe said, holding his beer up for a toast. "Thank you boys for believing in me. Believing in Cassie, and having the balls to follow my crazy-ass lead."

They all tapped cans together and took a drink.

"How long should we stay here?" Cas asked, looking to each of them.

Dean and Sam glanced at each other. "A week? Two?" Dean suggested, Sam nodding in agreement.

They ate quietly. It had been a long night and a long drive. They were all exhausted. They ate seconds and thirds, finishing the pot of tuna, noodles and peas. Sam washed, dried and put away dishes as Dean sat on the stone ledge in front of the fireplace. Gabriel and Castiel sat back, nodding off.

When Sam was done, he patted Gabe on the shoulder. "Come on," he said quietly, bringing a tired grin to Gabe's face. He looked over at Dean. "Night."

"Yeah, night," he said, Cas giving them a wave.

Castiel began making a bed on the couch. Dean threw another log on the fire. The small cabin was easy to heat and he felt warm and tired.

"Dean," Cas said quietly. "Come lay down. I'll take first watch."

Dean nodded, standing and pulling his flannel off. He sat on the sheet covered couch, pushing his boots off. The couch, for as old as it was, was deep and comfortable. He tucked two blankets into the back of the cushions, making a warm bed that was lulling him in. He laid down, his head nestling into the pillow and pulling the blankets up snug around his neck. Cas turned the battery lantern off, leaving the room in a warm glow of the fire. Dean craned his head up, seeing Cas' silhouette by the window, dutifully watching.

Dean bit his lip, looking back at the fire. No one was going to sneak up on them way out here. Cas would pace the night for no good reason. He ran his hand along the smooth sheet beside him. They were going to be here at least a week. One of them could sleep in the recliner. They could take turns. Or Dean could admit to himself that neither of those options were going to settle the tight coiling in his chest. He sat up, feeling antsy suddenly. He walked over to the sink, getting a glass of water and swallowing a long drawl. He turned, leaning against the counter and watching Castiel's stiff shoulders as he steadfastly watched out the window.

He could go over, put his hand on one of those strong shoulders and ask him to come to bed with him. He stood there, stuck to the spot. He took another drink of water and licked his lips nervously.

Nothing.

Not a move.

Shit.

Dean turned back to the couch, sitting his water on the end table beside the couch. He took his jeans off, tossing them onto his flannel, now down to his socks, boxers and t-shirt. He got under the thick covers and once again snuggled down into a comfortable fetal position.

His eyes refused to stay closed. His heart was thumping and he tried several times to say something, but nothing would come out.

Half an hour ticked by and he heard Cas sigh.

"You're not sleeping on the job, are you?" Dean finally managed.

"Dean, I thought you were sleeping," Cas said quietly.

"I can't seem to shut my head up."

"Mm," Cas said in an understanding tone.

"Cas," Dean said, a beat quieter, "No one will sneak up on us here. You can sleep."

"I will feel better when I have some warding sigils up tomorrow. For tonight, I should keep watch."

Dean mulled this over. "We would hear someone coming a mile away, Cas."

Silence fell again, but Dean did not hear a move from him. He tipped his head up, seeing Cas had not moved.

"Cas."

Cas turned his head, looking at Dean.

"Just...come to bed."

He could not make out Cas' facial expression, but his shoulders shifted as he looked back out the window then turned back to Dean again.

"Really," Dean said, coming up on one elbow. "No one will find us here. And...it's gonna get cold when the fire dies down."

Castiel looked out the window again, walking to the next window and peering outside. He checked every window while Dean followed him with his eyes.

"Cas," Dean said when he had checked the final window. "Come on."

Castiel came over to the fire, placing one more log on top, then stood, looking at Dean.

"I'll sleep on a recliner."

Dean swallowed hard. "Why?"

Cas pressed his lips into a firm line, watching Dean carefully. His face was warm with a golden glow of the fire. He was beautiful. His hair was black as night in the dark and his eyes were dark, reflecting firelight.

Dean licked his lips.

"Dean," Cas said quietly, slightly strained. "I will be fine on the recliner, if I could just have one of the blankets."

Dean nodded, disappointed. He held a clenched breath tight in his chest. He sat up briskly, pulling the top blanket off and tossing it to the chair. Suddenly he could not even think straight. He shoved his feet into his nearby boots.

"What are you doing?" Cas asked.

"Taking a piss." He stood, laces open, stomping slightly toward the door, grabbing his coat from the wall and putting it on over his t-shirt. He pulled the door open and quickly shut it behind him. He was shocked at the cold that whipped over his bare legs.

"Fuck," he muttered, regretting not grabbing his jeans. He wrapped his coat as tight around himself as possible and stomped over the rough trail to the outhouse. He went inside and stood out of the wind. It only smelled like woods in here. It had not been used in so long and the cold weather kept the air fresh. He slumped against the wall and scowled heavily at nothing.

He had sucked up his fears and got shut down. Now what the hell was he going to do around Cas. How did Sam always manage things so seamlessly? He never agonized in the dark like Dean did.

A snapping twig tore him from his thoughts and he stood up straight, reaching for the door when it flew away abruptly, revealing Cas standing in the doorway.

"Cas! What the hell?"

"What. It's not like you were actually pissing."

Dean clamped his jaw shut at the angry tone to Cas' voice.

"Get back inside, Dean. It's too cold to be out here half naked."

"I'm not-" Dean snapped stopping short when Cas snatched him by the front of his jacket and pulled him, staggering, out of the outhouse.

"Cas!" Dean gasped.

"I get it Dean," Cas said, teeth gritted, "when you met me I was weak. Almost dead. As I regain my health, I assure you that I am not the kind to be unsure about. I refuse to waste my time with someone who hesitates."

Dean's mouth gaped open. Castiel had lived under harsh judgement for a long time. It made sense that he would take Dean's hesitation as an insult. "Cas I didn't mean to make you mad."

"I'm sick of waiting for people to get comfortable with the idea of liking me. Sam and Gabriel don't seem to have any problem showing each other how they feel. Why are you so resistant?" Castiel still had Dean's jacket in a tight grip and was now pressing him into the cold trunk of a tree.

"I'm not! I mean, I don't care about you being gay, Cas. It's just that I don't think I am. Or I guess I'm bi. I don't know."

"I don't have time for 'I don't know', so let me help you make up your mind."

Cas kissed him hard. Their lips were cold and teeth hit more than once. "Shit," Dean whimpered, his mind flooded with panic and want. Cas' mouth was possessive and demanding and Dean wanted nothing more than to give all he had.

Dean's limbs that had felt frozen, began trembling for another reason.

Castiel pulled away, his forehead pressed to Dean's.

"Cas," Dean started to explain his self and lost all train of thought when Cas' mouth worked its way along his jaw, nibbling, biting and licking. Dean's knees went weak and his head tipped back.

"Uh, shit," he muttered, his hands coming up to touch Cas' soft hair. His fingers curled, fisting the hair and felt a rumbling laugh from Cas.

"Like that?" He murmured, working his way down Dean's neck.

"Cas," Dean half whimpered, half moaned.

"If you want me to stop, you will have to tell me to." Castiel found his mouth again, slower this time, but no less demanding. His hands slid off the jacket and Dean was amazed that he stayed right where he was. He did not run. He gasped and moaned when Castiel's hands slid under the jacket along the hem of his t-shirt and up underneath along his ribs.

Dean pulled his mouth away, his hands sliding down to Castiel's shoulders.

"Cas," he said unevenly.

"My God," Castiel said in a hushed voice, "you are absolutely beautiful."

The compliment was one he had certainly never received before and Dean felt himself flinch. Their eyes locked and Castiel tilted his head slightly in a questioning look. "Dean," one hand left the bare skin of Dean's side and landed light as a feather on his cheek. "You are handsome and beautiful. Inside and out."

"Stop," Dean said weakly, his chin dropping down.

Cas slid his hand down his cheek and under his chin, pressing it up so they were eye to eye again. "I'm sorry Dean," Cas said, his eyes searching. "I think I may have misjudged you."

Dean pressed back into the tree, "No, Cas, I do like you!"

"I know," Cas nodded, making Dean swallow hard. "But I thought your issue was with liking men. Now, I realize your issue is with being liked. You don't feel you deserve this?"

"What?" Dean squirmed, suddenly feeling penned in.

Cas grinned slowly, leaning forward, barely touching his lips to Dean's and pulling back a fraction. Dean huffed, closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss him. Again, his hands were in Cas' hair and this time he pressed harder. His hips rocked instinctively and when Cas' hands slid down to his hips and squeezed, Dean thought he might lose his mind.

Cas pulled back this time. "You don't shy away from physical contact."

Dean sighed.

"It's when I compliment you that you begin pulling away."

"Quit analyzing me!" Dean snapped.

"I have to, Dean," Cas snapped back, "You don't tell me anything! I hate that Gabriel has a chain to you. That he knows more about what you're feeling than I do. I know you like me, but I get pushed away just as much. You are not an easy man to be around sometimes. I thought you had issues with me being a man. But I think now that your issues are with being loved."

"Whoa." Dean said shortly, eyeing Cas harshly. "Just fuckin' whoa."

"I'm not saying I love you, Dean," Cas said gently, backing up a step. "I'm saying you struggle to accept kindness and praise."

"Jesus," Dean pushed Cas back another step and trudged toward the cabin. He heard Cas following him, but nothing was said.

Dean went into the cabin and walked to the fireplace throwing another log onto the fire needlessly. He could feel Cas' eyes on him like a hunted animal. He stood watching the fire, not knowing what to think. Castiel was the first person to push him with thoughts like this. He made him think about himself and that made Dean's head spin. He reached up to the mantle and pulled down a bottle of Jack, pouring a half glass. He sat the bottle back on the mantle and took a drink. He felt Cas approach him from the side and he closed his eyes, greeting the burn of the whiskey down his throat. "What?"

Cas waited for Dean to open his eyes and look at him. Cas took the glass out of his hand and sat it on the mantle next to the bottle. "Go to bed, Dean."

"Tcha," Dean scoffed.

"Now," Cas growled, stepping closer.

Dean turned, kicking his boots off and tossing his jacket. "I'm goin' to bed because I'm freakin' tired." He challenged Cas with a glare, saying, 'I'm going to bed because I damn well want to, NOT because you said so,' to which, Cas averted his eyes, but his chin did not tip down any.

"You're kinda bossy," Dean snipped. "And pushy."

"Well, waiting for you to make up your mind could take an eternity," Cas growled.

Dean got under the covers, turning his back to Cas and the fire.

Long moments of fire crackling passed between the two men.

"I'm sorry I made you mad, Dean."

Dean huffed, burrowing his head deeper into the cushions. "It's fine." Dean knew he was angrier with himself than he was with Cas, but he was beyond fixing the situation.

People generally took Dean at face value, not pressing for more.

He felt the cushion dip and he squeezed his eyes shut, muscles tightening.

He felt Cas lay down next to him, sliding under the covers, his legs lining up with his, his shoulder pushing the pillow slightly. He could feel Cas' chest barely touching his back, but the heat seeped into his skin anyway. Dean's body started relaxing without his consent.

A hand tentatively slid under his arm and onto his side and Dean huffed a sigh. His thumb stroked gently and Dean nuzzled his head slightly, shifting and softening into Castiel's touch.

Dean sighed. He knew exactly why he was struggling so hard with this. One, he wasn't drunk and crashing with someone for a quick hook-up. Two, Cas scared the shit outta him sometimes. Not from the way he got pushy outside, but because he liked him a lot. Like...a lot. Cas' hand squeezed gently. Truth be told, he had been rather shitty to Cas since he bonded with Sam. He needed to get over his bullshit and just man-up already. That hand on his side felt warm and good.

Dean felt the soft puff of Castiel's breath on the back of his neck and he began to tense in new ways, pressing back into Castiel's welcoming chest. For several moments they lay just breathing.

He felt Cas shift behind him, going up onto one elbow and pulling Dean gently until he was on his back.

Cas looked down on Dean, Dean looking up at him.

Their eyes were locked. The world could be burning around them, but Dean could look no where but into those eyes. Cas was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. His skin looked smooth and it made Dean's mouth water. He lifted his hand, running a crooked finger down his abs, lightly touching the small, white bandage on his side.

"How is it?" Dean whispered, wondering how the healing wound had fared over their difficult day.

"I'm fine," Cas smiled softly.

Dean could see feather tattoos edging along his shoulders and upper arms. He scooted over as far as he could, giving Cas another inch of room and he leaned up, pulling his own t-shirt off.

Cas grinned, one corner of his lip climbing as his eyes tracked down Dean's torso, his hand ghosting over his skin.

Dean let out a contented breath, his eyes drifting shut. It would be so much easier if he would just give in. He let all his self-loathing and self-doubts go. He smiled at the thought of letting Cas in. Just...doing what he wanted. When Castiel's lips landed on his, the kiss was soft and hot. Dean ran his hands where he knew the tattoo covered him. He wished he could see those wings in the firelight, but there was no way he was letting Cas go. Just the thought made him pull Cas closer. They kissed and touched late into the night. When Dean thought he may surely lose his mind from want, Cas pulled at his boxers, Dean shoving them down and Cas' as well.

Cas took them both in hand and it was a matter of only moments before they were both biting and sucking in the throws of escalation. The touch of Cas' hand on his dick, then Cas' own rubbing against his, it was mind blowing. They came undone together, panting and sweaty. Dean sighed in the moment of greatest contentedness he ever recalled feeling. Maybe no words were spoken this round, but the messages were clear.

Cas rolled, grabbing his t-shirt off the floor and cleaned them both up. They both chuckled at the mess and pulled their boxers back up.

Dean laid on his side, Castiel turning to spoon into him after one last kiss. Cas was just a tad smaller built than himself, the pair fitting together perfectly. With the blanket still down at their waist because they were hot, Dean ran his fingertips slowly along the length of Cas' arm and back up and over his shoulder and down his back. He leaned forward, kissing the back of his neck, hugging Cas to him tighter.

"Sorry I can be so hard to be around," Dean murmured.

Cas took Dean's hand, pulling Dean's arm tighter around him. "Dean," Cas sighed, "there is nowhere I would rather be."

Dean squeezed his hand tighter kissing along his shoulder then dropping his head to the pillow. "Me either."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7. Dirty Deals

Dean's head felt heavy as a boulder and his thoughts swirled slowly. He was aware that he should care more about the theme of those slippery thoughts, but he was slightly fascinated with the unnatural weight of his head. With great effort, it rolled slightly back and forth, causing the slippery thoughts to swish side to side.

A warning thought weaved its way through the swirling mass. 'Something isn't right.'

Dean took a deep breath, finding his mouth thick and a taste of cotton on his tongue. Actual cotton. There was something cotton on his tongue. He attempted to reach for it, finding his arm at an unnatural angle and caught fast, unmoving.

Concern began to seep through his mind, itching, pushing. He pulled a deep breath through his nose and desperately willed his eyelids to open.

Blocks and blurs of colored light met his vision until definition finally clarified his surroundings.

He was staring at the inside of the roof of a box truck. He was laying haphazardly on top of four boxes, his hands bound behind his back and a rag stuffed in his mouth and tied around his head.

"He's waking up," came a deep rumbling voice to his side. His eyes moved slowly, seeing a stern looking man with dark skin and angry eyes. Next to him a thinner man was pulling a hypodermic needle out of a small black case.

"Uriel," the thinner man said, "two doses might be too much. He might-"

"Just do it," Uriel answered with bored disgust.

Dean shifted away, but found moving difficult. He looked out the small square windows in the back doors of the truck. It was daylight. The last thing he remembered was driving to the small grocery store for supplies. He had assured them that he was fine to go alone. He shopped and loaded the car with 5 bags. Something must have happened at the car. He had no memory of ever getting back into it. He never made it back to the cabin. And now it was daylight. It had been almost dark as he loaded the bags into the car. At least an entire night and part of a day had gone by. He felt the sharp prick of the needle in his arm. He should have been back at the cabin hours ago, if not days ago. He had no idea. From the steady speed, he was on a highway. He could be quite far away by now. The others must be going crazy. Any other thoughts were fuzzed out in a haze of unconsciousness.

"I told you we shouldn't let Bobby chip us," Castiel said bitterly from the back seat of the stolen truck they were in.

"Fine, you were right, alright!" Sam snapped, weaving past another car on the highway.

"Just get us to a phone," Castiel said angrily. He knew he was not helping the situation by griping at Sam, but his thoughts were all fear and anger by this point. When Dean had not returned, they knew something was wrong. They had to hike out of the woods to the nearest house where they had stolen the truck and headed for the little grocery store. The Subaru was there. Castiel thought he might throw up when he saw the door still open and the back seat full of bags of groceries. The only way they could have been found was that their chips had been tracked. They headed toward the only place he and Gabriel could imagine the Angels would take Dean. Back to Philadelphia.

"Do you feel anything?" Castiel asked Gabriel again.

"No," Gabriel answered patiently. "But I know he's there, Cas."

Sam pulled off the highway and went into a gas station, fueling up while Castiel and Gabriel headed for a payphone.

Castiel took a steadying breath before pressing the last number.

"Hello, Michael's office, Naomi speaking."

"Naomi, this is Castiel. Put Michael on the phone."

"Castiel," she said smugly, "please hold."

Castiel gripped the frame of the phone, feeling the metal dig into his palm. He closed his eyes and waited.

"Castiel."

"Michael."

"I suppose you're calling about the Hunter we captured."

Castiel ground his teeth. "What do you want Michael."

"What do I want? For starters, you can put Gabriel on the phone. I'd like to speak with him."

Castiel lowered the phone, looking at Gabriel.

Gabriel read his brother's body language, taking the phone. "Mike. What's up?"

Castiel paced in a maddening circle as Gabriel mostly listened.

He hung up the phone and the pair met, Sam joining them in a tight circle.

"So, the Angels want their feathers and cloth back for Dean."

"Did you speak to him? Is he alive?" Sam asked.

"I didn't speak to him, but I'm pretty sure he was who I heard yelling in the background."

Castiel paled.

"Yelling?" Sam clarified hastily, "like giving them hell or-"

"Like they were beating the shit out of him, Sam," Gabe said bitterly.

Sam paced away, one hand over his mouth and the other running back through his hair.

Castiel took a shaky breath. "Gabe,"

"I know, little brother," he said soberly. "Let's go get him."

Dean heard the door click shut and he lifted his head. The drugs were finally wearing off and he needed to make a move before anyone remembered to give him more. The first time he had realized where he was, he wanted to kill everyone he could see. He was back at The Divine Loraine. Just when he had been impressed with how well they had pulled off the job, he ended right back at square one. The room stayed quiet and he could hear nothing from the other side of the door. He slid his hands under his butt, pulling his legs between the cuffed hands. He went to work quickly, picking the cuff lock and getting to his feet. He ripped the gag off his head and out of his mouth, throwing it in the corner. His mouth was dry to the point of making him want to cough and he moved his joints stiffly, looking over every square inch of the room. The door was locked and there was no window. He pulled the vent off the wall with some effort and crawled inside. The shaft was barely wide enough for him, but he managed to get to the hallway, coming out the vent quietly. He snuck down the hallway, then another. Two men came around a corner, almost running into him. Dean punched one in the throat, kicking the other hard in his chest. Both men dropped to the floor, gasping for air. He punched them both in the temple, knocking them out cold. He glanced around, no one there, so he rifled through pockets pulling out two cell phones. Hearing voices coming from around the corner, he ran the other way, seeing an elevator. He dodged inside, pressing a button for the tenth floor. Getting out the front door seemed a ridiculous plan at this point, and on the tenth floor, he had options. At least he knew about the secret doors.

The elevator doors opened and he was greeted by a woman who gave him a curious look which quickly changed to a startled expression.

"Sorry lady," Dean said, throwing her inside the elevator and pressing the ground floor button as he jumped out. He glanced wildly about, heading left at a run. Lights began blinking and an alarm sounded. His head-start was over. Ahead, he saw rose colored carpet and hoped for all he had that it was the hall he knew. He flew around the corner, barreling into two Angels, knocking them both off their feet. He kept his feet under him, seeing the massive doors at the end of the hall. A gunshot rang out, Dean darting to the side and dodging inside the massive door. He whirled, pulling it shut with a thunderous slam.

"Ha!" He yelled, pulling a crossbar down over the door and running for the secret door. He couldn't stop, but he gave their sacred book a mighty shove, grinning as it thundered to the floor in a crumpling thud that echoed through the long room. He pressed his hands to the wall, sliding them and pushing. He heard thuds from the other side of the large doors and began pressing in a wider area. Cas had done it so quickly.

"Come on!" He yelled in frustration. He pressed into a soft spot and heard a quiet click. The thin door opened and Dean sucked in a breath of relief. He stepped inside, closing the door. The only problem now? He had no idea where to go once he was in the walls.

He pulled one phone out of his pocket, using it as a flashlight and pulled the other out to try making a call.

No reception.

He tried to remember how Cas had pulled him through the labyrinth of passageways, moving much slower than they had. After three wrong turns, he found Cas' room. No one was inside and he quickly locked the door. It had a private bathroom attached and he guzzled water from the spigot. He stepped over to a window and tried calling Sam again.

"Hello?" Sam answered hesitantly.

"Sam!"

"Dean!"

"Where are you?"

"Back in Phili. Just about to go into a meeting with Michael. He wants the feathers and bonding cloth in exchange for you. Where are you?"

"I got away, but I'm still in the Hotel place. I need to talk to Cas. Don't go through with any deals, Sam, I got this."

"Thank God," Dean heard Sam sigh.

"Dean!" Castiel's voice surged through the phone.

"Cas, ya gotta talk me through this-"

"Dean! Where are you? Are you alright? Did Michael hurt you?"

"Whoa, whoa," Dean hushed the frantic barrage of questions. "I'm in your old room. Where should I go?"

"You're in my-, Just wait."

Dean sat on the side of the bed. "Nice bed," he grinned. His head was feeling woozy from all the drugs still in his system. He looked at the plump pillow lying there and wished he could just lay down. He had some mild concern that he should be freaking out, but he just focused on getting out.

"Dean," Cas said, cutting out slightly. "Hang on." Sounds of running or movement of some sort were in the background.

Dean looked around the room. "Ya know, there's nothing of YOU in here. No pictures, no Cas-like stuff." The room was clean and tidy, no trinkets, nothing to signify this was a real person's room. It reminded him of a room in a super fancy hotel.

"Dean, stay focused," Cas sighed.

Dean pulled open the nightstand drawer. "Dude, you have a pen and notepad in your nightstand drawer. How boring can you get?"

"Dean!"

"What!" Dean giggled.

He heard a scuffle on the phone.

"Dean," Sam said.

"Yo," Dean said, snapping out of his teasing.

"We're outside the building. Can you get to the tunnel?"

"Put Cas back on."

"Dean, do you remember the route we took?" Cas asked.

"You're kidding right. It took us forever to get out of there. Can you talk me through it?"

"No, no phone reception in there."

"Okay," Dean paced a circle in the huge room. "Text it to me."

"Okay. Dean?" Cas said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Please, please be safe."

"I will," Dean sighed.

They hung up.

Waiting for the text, Dean could hear people in the hallway outside the bedroom. He stepped into the closet, in case people came in. The closet was full of suits, dress shirts, and dress shoes. His crush had been quite the nerd. It was a walk-in closet with fine, wooden shelving and everything hanging was perfectly in its place.

Dean reached up onto a high shelf to open boxes. He had a few minutes to kill, he might as well be nosy. He struck gold on the first box. Pictures and small mementos were in a box on a top shelf. Dean grabbed a backpack from a hook on the inside of the closet door and put the box inside. Knowing Cas, he checked every box, but found no more like the one he had. His stolen phone dinged with directions and Dean quickly read over them. He heard voices and the bedroom door was being unlocked and then opened. Dean pushed himself between some clothing, but the amateurs never even opened the closet door before leaving. After several minutes of silence, Dean stepped into the middle of the closet. He glanced around one more time and noticed one corner of the carpet was slightly lifted. He crouched down and yanked the carpet. A large Manila envelope was underneath. Dean grabbed it and put it into his backpack. He cracked the closet door open, knowing he needed to go. The room was empty, but they had left the bedroom door open. Dean could see the tip of an elbow just outside the door. Someone was standing guard. He took a deep breath and made his move. He quickly dodged across the room and into the secret door. Even Bela would have been proud of that little escape. He closed the door with the tiniest click and slid the lock into place like Cas had instructed. The inside of the walls came into view in the light of the cellphone. The backside of lathe, tongue and groove, bricks, and studs went by as he followed the directions. The stairs were narrow and steep and seemed to go on forever. Down, down, down, he staggered in the dark. He followed another brick lined hallway. As he stepped around a corner, a black, leather clad hand grabbed him by the throat. Both Dean's hands went around the wrist, pulling.

"Got you," the man's voice growled.

Dean pulled back, whipped around and the pair scuffled in the tight space until the man shoved Dean's head hard, cracking it soundly on the edge of a step. His fighting got less successful after that. He was drug through a door several feet away and into a hallway with hardwood floors and burgundy runner carpets with gold lattice. A vase on a small stand spun precariously as the pair staggered into the space.

The relentless hand was still clamped around his neck and Dean felt himself slammed up against the wall. Dean's feet were barely touching the floor, making him work to keep his toes in contact with floor.

The man smiled victoriously. "Call Castiel."

"Eat me," Dean managed to grit out.

"Call him."

Dean growled, kneeing the Angel sharply, causing him to finally let go of Dean's throat. Dean shoved hard, knocking the man off his feet. He scrambled back inside the secret door, desperate to get another flight down and out into the tunnel.

As he reached the tunnel door, he could hear the man pursuing him. He burst through the final door and landed hard on his knees on the concrete. He looked around and froze. He was looking up the barrel of a 9mm in the hand of a handsome, brown haired man in an expensive suit and a happy grin. It was Michael. Head honcho of Angel dickdom. He had tried to beat some information out of him before, until the phone rang, probably Cas or Gabe, letting some other Angel dick take over the beating. He seemed satisfied enough after the call and that was when the drugs had begun again and he was thrust into the little room he had woken up in. "Dean, nice of you to join us."

Still on his knees, Dean glanced over, seeing Sam, Gabe, and Cas standing there.

Sam looked worried. Gabriel's eyes were locked onto Michael and Castiel looked like his head was ready to blow. His eyes were worried, yet there was livid anger on his face.

The man who had chased Dean through the hidden hallways, burst through the door.

"Raphael," Michael grinned, "good work."

Raphael straightened his shoulders and grabbed Dean from behind, pulling him roughly to his feet.

"Michael," Castiel said, "what do you want?"

"Brother," Michael said sadly, lowering his gun now that Raphael had Dean in hand, "you sadden me. You disgrace us all in your behavior."

Castiel's eyes were locked onto Raphael now, who leered back.

Dean could feel blood running from his forehead where he had met the step edge.

"We want the feathers and the bonding cloth in exchange for your...new friends."

"Fine," Castiel said low and gritty.

"I don't have them with me," Gabriel said.

Michael sighed.

"I do," Castiel said. "I'll give you the bonding cloth for Dean. And you can have me until the feathers are returned."

Michael and Raphael exchanged a look.

"Fine," Michael said smoothly.

"Now, unhand Dean, Raphael," Cas growled, stepping forward slightly.

Raphael huffed a laugh. Dean staggered forward a step toward his friends from the shove Raphael hastily gave him. Sam and Cas immediately grabbed him, pulling him to their side.

"The cloth." Michael demanded.

"Dean," Castiel said under his breath, their eyes meeting.

Dean reached into his coat pocket and grabbed the cloth and tossed it on the ground, making Raphael and Michael frown in disgust.

Michael knelt, picking the cloth up with reverence.

"You dumbasses had it the whole time," Dean rasped, his throat still parched.

"Castiel," Raphael warned, "if you think you can survive this poor plan, you are sorely mistaken."

Before Raphael could finish his last word, two tiny darts landed simultaneously into Michael and Raphael's necks.

"Gabriel," Michael hissed, dropping to his knees, his gun dropping uselessly to his side.

"What?" Gabe smiled. "I have new friends. Ones that don't feel the need to toss me out a window."

"I will destroy you all," Raphael said, dropping to his knees as well, his body losing control.

Castiel let go of Dean's arm to step up to Raphael, grabbing him by his face. "Come and get me, you little bastard," he growled, shoving Raphael to his back. He picked up the bonding cloth, which Michael had dropped, and Cas dropped the cloth on Raphael's chest. "Keep your bonding cloth."

Michael, panting and on all fours to fight the drugs, looked up at Gabriel. "We will find you, brother."

Gabriel stepped forward, grabbing Michael by his hair to look him in the eyes, even as they fought to stay focused. "New deal, dickwad. Keep your cloth. You get one feather. The other is ours. If you ever kill a Hunter, or one of us, the Hunters will destroy everything you have, including your precious feather. Hunters keep the other feather and get to hunt demons like everybody else."

Michael fought to stay conscious.

"Deal?" Gabriel grinned.

Michael puffed an angry growl. "Deal."

"Atta boy," Gabe grinned, slapping Michael's face lightly and dropped him to the ground.

Gabriel stood and the four turned to leave. Charlie and Bobby stepped out of the shadows, guns in hand.

"Nice shooting," Dean grinned.

"Let's get out of here," Bobby nodded, the six quickly making their way to the subway station. They took the subway, rather than going up the steps.

Cas practically carried Dean the whole way, sitting him gently in a seat. Sam sat on his other side.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked, worry, crinkling his forehead.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean patted Sam's knee, Sam pulling him into a fierce sideways hug. "I'm good."

Sam released him, the brothers nodding slightly.

"Dean," Cas said, his voice laced with pain, "I'm so sorry. I should have gone with you!"

"I'm okay, stop," Dean said, letting himself be pulled into Castiel's embrace.

"You're not," Cas' voice cracked, "you're bleeding."

Dean sighed into the embrace, his head laying heavily on Cas' shoulder. "I could use some water."

Gabriel pulled out a half bottle of water, handing it over with an apologetic shrug.

"Sorry."

"Dude, after that rescue, I could kiss you anyway. So, thanks," Dean grinned, toasting him with the water bottle and guzzling the little bit that was left.

"I knew you were alive," Gabe said quietly, "I could feel you through the chain spell but I couldn't make anything out."

"They had me drugged," Dean explained, feeling exhaustion take over. "I'm so friggin' thirsty."

Castiel nodded, his eyes full of pain. He pulled Dean tighter to him, his hand fisting into Dean's hair and he felt him press a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm so sorry."

"S okay," Dean sighed.

Dean woke to the gentle rocking of steady highway driving. His nose was tucked warmly into Castiel's neck and he pulled back slightly, finding himself sitting in Castiel's lap in the squished third row seat of a minivan. Charlie and Bobby sat in the seat in front of them, Sam was driving and Gabe sat co-pilot.

Dean turned, looking at Cas, who reached to run a thumb down Dean's cheek.

"We're safe," Castiel said, with a small smile.

"Where are we?" Dean croaked out.

Castiel reached over, getting a water bottle out of a cooler.

Dean took it, drinking the whole thing as Cas gently massaged his shoulder. He felt sore. His knuckles ached. His sides and face felt the familiar ache of being bruised.

Charlie turned in her seat. She whacked Bobby's arm gently with a grin. "He's up!"

Bobby turned in his seat to see Dean better.

"Hey there, boy."

Dean tipped his chin up, grinning slightly. Bobby did not seem surprised to see Dean cuddled up onto Castiel's lap, making Dean blush and wonder how long he had been that way.

"You did good, Dean, gettin' outta there," Bobby grinned, patting Dean's knee. He thought he saw Bobby's glance stiffen at Cas. But none of his thoughts felt particularly clear right now.

"Thanks," Dean grinned, tired from drinking. He could not stop his head from lolling back to Cas' shoulder.

"Aww!" Charlie giggled.

Dean could feel Cas smiling. He took the empty bottle from Dean's hand and put it aside. "Can you eat something?" Cas asked gently.

"Maybe," Dean murmured. "My mouth tastes so awful."

"Oh!" Charlie grinned, handing Dean a travel toothbrush thing. Dean examined it for a few seconds and went to work brushing his teeth, surprised at how the tiny brush produced toothpaste enough to chase away his nasty breath and fuzzy teeth. He handed the used toothbrush back to Charlie, his head and arm dropping back to Cas' body.

"I got a burrito," Charlie offered, "he loves steak burritos."

Dean could smell steak and cheese and he lifted his head, shifting slightly. "I can move," he offered, looking back to Cas.

Castiel gave him a sad look. "You don't have to."

Dean grinned, wrapping his hand around Cas' and the burrito. He leaned forward, kissing him. "Okay."

He ate most of the burrito and some fries from Bobby. He felt better but still tired.

"You're cheek is swollen," Cas said quietly, his eyes traveling Dean's face with regret and worry.

"It's just some bruises," Dean answered softly. "Nothin' to worry about."

"I am worried," Cas said, kissing his bruised hand. "I hate them for touching you at all."

There was a sore spot that was swollen and stabbed at the hairline of his forehead, Dean feeling it gingerly. "They'll get theirs, Cas. And I'll be fine."

Dean and Cas shifted slightly, Dean never making a move to leave Cas' lap. Only adjusting to get more comfortable for both of them.

Dean's head laid partially on Cas' shoulder. "Where are we?" Dean asked quietly. Bobby had turned back around and Charlie had earbuds in, looking out her window.

"We're going to another hideout. Kansas, I think," Cas answered softly, turning his head slightly so their mouths were almost touching.

"We got away with everything," Dean grinned.

"The bond cloth-" Cas began.

"Is with the feathers. Mine was a fake from the shrine around it."

Cas chuckled, his eyes sparkling as they searched Dean's face with amused awe. "Dean, you are amazing."

"I don't know about that. Crafty, maybe."

Cas grinned, his mouth landing on Dean's, his hand cupping his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're okay, Dean."

"Me too."

"Get a room!" Gabe called from the front seat, smirking back at the pair.

They both grinned, kissing until Dean's head dropped in exhaustion.

Dean closed his eyes. Cas was warm and sure in every touch. His hands were strong and caring. Dean found himself loving every second of the attention. The care. The feel. He sighed heavily, his hand finding Cas' and curling up around it. He could feel Cas watching him, but was too tired to open his eyes and look back.

His hand was lifted and kissed, then nestled with such care against Cas' chest that Dean grinned. His heart felt swollen three sizes and that light-headed feeling was creeping back in. His stomach tightened with the realization of just how good he felt and how strongly he wanted to curl up inside this man.

His eyes opened slowly, Cas immediately looking deep inside them. Their smiles faded and Dean felt like his heart might race out of his chest. He was in love. His mouth opened slightly, wanting to say it, it felt so loud and strong, ringing in his own ears, but his mind shut him down quickly. Not the time or place or how did he even know for sure?

Cas squeezed his hand, reading him like a book. "Go to sleep, Dean," he whispered.

Dean swallowed. Their eyes were still locked in an immovable gravitation.

"Cas," Dean whispered back, wanting to spill his heart.

"I know," Cas whispered, kissing him softly, squeezing his hand again.

He knew? How could he know?

"Me too," Cas whispered, his other arm wrapping Dean slightly tighter.

"Sleep, Dean."

Dean chuckled tiredly, closing his eyes and nestling into every inch of Castiel Novak, Angel of all Angels. He knew. He knew Dean loved him. He said, 'me too'. It was intoxicating and his mind swirled with thoughts of things Dean had sung about but had never once felt for himself.

Kansas. Now this brought back memories. Sam and Dean had roots here, bitter and shriveled as they were. They weren't in Lawrence, but it was as if the very air carried their history and tainted their thoughts.

"Dean," Sam said, nudging Dean's elbow, "come inside. Dinner's ready and Bobby wants to talk."

Dean took a deep breath, hoisting himself off the porch rail. His bruises were fading, but he felt stiff and sore. His throat was still tender to the touch, but he had stopped drinking copious amounts of fluid, flushing all the drugs from his system. They were staying in a small house on the outskirts of of a no-name town close to nothing much of anything. Dean pulled the screen door open, closing both the screen door and front door behind him, locking them tight. He crossed the small living room, which was empty of people but crowded with out-dated furniture. A flowered couch, plaid chair and a brown recliner. A TV that was grainy and had no cable stood grey and powerless on an entertainment stand that was thick with dust and held a grand total of 3 video tapes that went with a really old VCR. There were two lamps that were on and a magazine rack holding catalogues and old magazines. The place had been owned by a hunter who was out and had told Bobby they could all crash there. The guy had a family at one time and had lost them to a Tulpa. Life seemed to have stopped for the poor guy. It had killed his parents and his sister, leaving him a dysfunctional Watcher for awhile until he turned Hunter.

Dean passed through the office, crowded with books and papers that gave bits of what the guy had hunted over the years. He stepped into the kitchen, table full of dishes and chairs crowded around the table to fit all six that were stuck together. Old wallpaper with tea kettles, cups and saucers peeled slowly off the walls in corners and along seams. The floor's linoleum should have been replaced thirty years ago and was warn through in patches by the sink and refrigerator. Gabriel and Charlie were talking about the way the tattoos were done among Angels, the ceremony and the feathers. Bobby listened, sipping a glass of whiskey as he nudged one over to Dean's empty spot. Dean grinned crookedly, taking his seat. Castiel and Sam were putting containers of macaroni salad, rolls, and fruit cocktail on the table. A heaping plate of hot dogs sat steaming in the center of the table. It wasn't much, but it was plenty.

Castiel sat down and handed Dean a roll. They had been in the house about three hours. Long enough to decompress from days of driving, get hungry and scrounge for food.

Dean added a hotdog to his roll, doctored it up with ketchup and mustard and scooped macaroni on his plate. The others worked on passing plates and making due.

Castiel nudged the toe of Dean's boot with his own shoe, Dean giving him a grin. It was a brief reminder that they were lucky to be alive. And the richness of the blue gems that were his eyes made him feel rich, if only for an instant. Their time at the cabin had been quieter after that first night. They had slept together on the couch, but only slept. It was the living room after all, which Gabe and/or Sam could and did walk through at any given time. They had only had three days there before the need for toilet paper had driven Dean to the store out of necessity, getting him captured. What a shitty reason, right?

He and Cas had only kissed several more times, taking walks in the woods or stealing a quiet moment when they had one alone. The cabin was tiny. And if Sam and Gabe were behaving, he wasn't rocking the boat. After all, the thought of Sam and Gabe making out was not what he wanted to see. They had all gone to bed early every night. Dean was actually quite glad they had ended up with the couch by the fireplace. They sat up talking and laughing and in general, getting to each other. Not Hunter Dean or Keeper Dean or Angel Castiel. Just these two guys...Dean and Cas. They heard many stories about their pasts, old friends and family, the little things that made them, them. The fact that they ended every one of those quiet nights kissing until they were both sleeping, was something Dean had never had before. Mornings waking up in each other's arms was so new. The same smile that had been there at night, was still there in the morning. No signs of shame or regret. Just bluer than blue eyes and that steady grin.

Dean's ear went back to Gabe talking about only being seven when he got his original 'full bird' he called it. It had been like a rite of passage. The original outline was done as a toddler so no one could forget his rank and status. At seven, all his black feathers were put in.

"They were so pissed at me. I cried and squirmed until Michael, the old one, not the one you all had the pleasure of meeting, threatened to burn all my toys," Gabe regaled. "But Cassie, I was there for his rite, of course, he was a stone. He didn't cry. Not once." The pair exchanged a haunted look, Cas going back to his hotdog.

"What about the blue feathers?" Dean asked.

Gabe nodded, chewing and swallowing before answering. "You get a blue feather for every demon you kill."

"Really?" Dean said, looking at Cas with a raised eyebrow. "Good to know."

Castiel grinned crookedly, never too enthusiastic about talking about his tattoos.

"I think it's pretty cool, actually," Dean said, eyeing Cas meaningfully.

"Are there other colored feathers?" Charlie asked.

Gabe and Cas' faces turned down toward their plates.

"Red," Cas said quietly.

"Let me guess," Bobby said, staring at Cas, "Red feather for Hunters."

Castiel nodded, looking sufficiently scolded.

"Cas doesn't have any red feathers," Dean said, letting Bobby know he could back off.

"That so?"

"That's so," Dean said with finality.

"How bout you, Gabe?" Bobby asked, sticking a fork full of macaroni in his mouth.

"No. Not me," Gabe answered.

"That so, Sam?"

Sam gave Bobby an irritated look. "No, Bobby. No red feathers. Now back off."

Bobby took another drink. "Sorry fellas. You gotta understand Sam and Dean are my family. Makes me a little...overprotective."

Dean gave him an exasperated look, matching Sam's bitchface, while Cas and Gabe merely nodded.

"So, any other colors?" Charlie asked, flinching slightly.

"No," Castiel said coldly.

She nodded, grinning to her own plate with apology written on her face.

"Anything else you want to ask, Robert?" Gabriel asked, sitting back and not flinching under Bobby's new glare.

"Gabriel," Cas warned.

"No, I agree," Dean snapped, "what else needs to be said, Bobby? Where else do they need to bleed?"

"Dean," Sam attempted.

"What else do you need to know, to understand that these two want nothing to do with Castle Greyskull or the Angel douchebags that run it?"

Bobby's face reddened and he huffed a sigh.

Silence fell over the group and Castiel sat his fork down, not looking at anyone.

"Sorry," Bobby stated tightly, studying his hotdog with mustard. "I was raised to hate Angels. And knowing some of those pricks are walkin' around with a red feather with my friends, my fellow Hunters names on them, eats me up some." He sighed heavily. "It's wrong and hidebound of me. Gabriel, Castiel, I know you two are in the rights here. It's just...a lot. You show up, then their's two, then you're both hookin' up with my boys." Bobby looked more rattled than Dean had ever remembered seeing him. And Dean had seen Bobby in a lot of messed up situations. "And I gotta protect my family!"

Dean stood up, all faces lifting to watch him. He came around the table, Bobby grumbling some as he stood up, ready to stand his ground, yet already looking defeated.

Dean met the older man's eyes steadily. He put one hand on the flannel clad shoulder he had, in the past, put plenty of weight on.

"Bobby, you gotta trust us. We know what we're doing."

"Yeah," Bobby nodded.

"Sam and I might be in over our heads here a bit, but these guys...they have our backs every time."

"I know," Bobby nodded. "I'm sorry. I just knew this pony show was gonna go sideways and damn it if you weren't caught in the thick of things."

Dean grinned at that. "Now that sounds like some old man shit. I grew up and live in the thick of things."

Bobby huffed a laugh, his shoulders relaxing some. "I know. I thought maybe you boys bein' Keepers might keep you safe for awhile and..."

"And here we are," Sam grinned.

"You two are like magnets! I swear!" Bobby shook his head. His face relaxed, his eyes finally meeting Dean's again. "You're hard on a guy."

Dean gave him a sad smile. He pulled Bobby in for a hug, both slapping backs a few seconds later. There. Matter settled. Issue buried.

They took their seats again and everyone resumed eating, shaking off the serious mood.

"Sooo, Dad," Gabe said smoothly, "what time is Sam's curfew?"

"Oh, God," Cas muttered, chin dropping, while everyone else froze.

"Have I shown you my gun, boy?" Bobby asked, a grin sprouting from his bearded face.

"You have!" Gabe laughed, voice breaking slightly with nerves and cheeks blushing. "It's...big."

Silence reigned for a few seconds until Charlie stifled a laugh. Then they all broke out laughing.

Gabe said no more on the matter. The rest of the meal was raucous and laughs like normal.

As Dean did the dishes, Gabe drying them, Bobby, Sam, Cas and Charlie sat around the table sipping their drinks of choice.

"So, that deal you made with Michael?" Bobby asked, watching Gabe put dishes in the wrong places in the cabinets.

"Yeah?"

"He gonna play by the rules?" Bobby pressed.

Gabe leaned against the counter, arms crossed and a slight thoughtful scowl toyed his baby-smooth mouth. "He will. I think. It's a matter of honor. That is, when he actually gets the feather."

Dean glanced at the bulky duffel bag and backpack sitting in the corner by the large pantry, that long ago had been a fireplace for the kitchen.

"When are we giving it back?" Dean asked the group.

Silence circulated as they all exchanged thoughtful glances.

"The sooner we give them the feather," Cas said quietly, "the sooner they will hold their end of the agreement."

"The sooner we give the feather," Sam countered, "the sooner we have no leverage against them."

"What happens when they find out they got a fake bonding cloth?" Charlie asked.

Cas and Gabe exchanged a worried look.

Gabe took a dripping plate from Dean and wiped it dry slowly. "Most likely? They'll come after us. All of us."

"I guess we can give it back," Castiel said. "It's not like Hunters want it."

Bobby shrugged at that. "I would sooner keep it under locks, but I have the feeling it's gonna cause a big stink."

"We could give it back," Charlie suggested. "I mean, is it really worth the wrath of the Angels for something we would lock away?"

Gabe shoved the plate alongside a clutter of mugs, jostling everything on the shelf and took another plate from Dean. "So, we give the rag back as a gesture of good faith. We give them one feather and part as...frenemies?"

"Hardly," Cas scoffed, unable to watch Gabe haphazardly stow dishes any longer. He took the plate and towel from Gabe, who shrugged, and Cas began re-organizing Gabriel's antics. "Angel teachings are too old and ingrained at this point. I would never want one of them on a hunt with me where I 'accidentally' end up dead."

Dean shot him a sober look as Cas gathered all six plates from where Gabe had stuffed them, stacking them neatly and putting them in the correct place.

"Maybe we need some boundaries. Agreed upon jurisdictions for demons," Bobby said, nodding.

"That could help!" Charlie grinned.

"And if we cross those lines?" Cas asked.

Bobby's shoulders slumped. "I don't know. Can't they see that we're on the same damn side here? That all hands on deck is a good thing?" His anger was back and he got up from his seat, pacing.

"While Gabriel and I might never trust them, there are many benefits to working things out among Hunters and Angels. I think it's worth a try," Castiel said gravely.

Dean wiped his hands dry as the sink drained and he put an arm around Cas' shoulders, giving him a small squeeze.

"I think it's worth a try," Dean agreed, Sam nodding.

"Then the sooner we make good on the bonding cloth, the better," Gabe said.

All nodded in agreement.

"Are we seriously driving back to Phili tomorrow?" Sam groaned. He had done most of the driving on the way to Kansas.

"I'll drive," Dean said. "I vote we get a good night's sleep and hit the road late tomorrow morning."

"Sounds good to me," Bobby said.

"In that case, I'm going for a walk. The thought of sitting for hours at a time is making my skin crawl already," Charlie said, getting to her feet and heading for the front door.

"Not far!" Bobby called.

"Okay, Dad," Charlie giggled.

Bobby's mouth twisted and he huffed a quick breath. "Ya know, fer never havin' kids, sometimes I feel like I have a hundred of ya!"

Sam chuckled, standing and stepping over to Bobby, squeezing him in a half hug that made Bobby's head teeter back and forth. "And you are father of the year!"

"Shuddup," Bobby rolled his eyes.

"Number one dad!" Dean laughed, "Hey, Pops, can I borrow twenty bucks?"

"Buncha idjits," Bobby shook his head, pulling out of Sam's arm and leaving the kitchen. It was all growls and surly shoulder shrugs, but Sam and Dean exchanged a laugh, knowing they were showing Bobby the best way they knew how, that they loved him too.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Greater than the Mississippi Divide

Castiel followed Dean up the stairway. Dinner had been uncomfortable. Bobby still made him nervous. He could see it in the man's eyes. He was not good enough for Dean. And how could he ever make him think any different, when the truth was, he was not good enough for Dean. The night in the woods, when he had snatched Dean by the coat and yelled at him, then kissed him...he maybe had been too harsh. Too forward. Too self-assured. Castiel knew very well that he could come across as callous. He had kept his true expressions bottled up almost his whole life. He could remember Old Gabriel grabbing him by the collar at the small age of four. Castiel had loved to go outside to the courtyard. He had planted himself amongst a patch of flowers to watch the fat bumble bees fly around. Another Angel, Anna, asked him if he would play with her. The two began a pretend adventure with her collection of fairy dolls. When Old Gabriel had caught him playing with 'girl toys', he had snatched him by the collar of his jacket, pulling him right off the ground. He had lectured him on the importance of his rank and how to act and how not to act. Castiel's childhood seemed like a long string of if-something-felt-right, it must be wrong. These lessons were learned the hard way at first. By the time he was a teenager, he knew better than to ever allow himself to think the way he wanted to. Seeing Gabriel fight the system more, taught him to keep quiet. Nevertheless, all three women suggested to be his wives he had quickly denied when to his great relief, the bonding cloth had not bound them. When he made his great escape, he vowed to live how he wanted to. To love who he wanted to. But truth be told, he really did not know how. Dean made him happy. His initial gut response was to hide it. To fight it. And quickly he scolded himself to fight the old beliefs and do things he wanted. It resulted in bursts and droughts. And Bobby not having faith in him was really weighing on his mind. Maybe Dean would be better off without him complicating his life. Angels would leave Dean alone if Cas was no where near him.

He followed Dean into the biggest bedroom and gently placed the duffel bag containing several guns, hex bags, the feathers and the cloth on a dresser in the corner.

Dean nodded in approval at the salt lined windows as he sat his own bag on the floor.

Castiel sat on a chest at the foot of the bed and began untying his shoes. His thoughts were swarming louder and louder in his head. He should have just let Dean alone. Who was he to demand someone make up their mind about liking him? He was no one, that's who.

A hand on his shoulder brought his thoughts to a freezing halt. He looked up and into the most handsome face he had ever seen. Green eyes. Light brown hair. A smattering of freckles that came out more strongly in bright sunlight. And those ever-observant eyes were on him. Dean had an uncanny ability to size him up and read him in an instant.

"Where are you?" Dean asked in a husky whisper. It was so honest and open. Unlike the Dean he had dealt with from the time he chain spelled to Sam until their moments on the couch. Castiel would never forget the change in Dean's eyes from when he had laid down on that couch in anger and the next morning, waking in his arms. The green was like sun-baked grass. Warm, soft, inviting. His tense moods had given way to a man who was relaxed. Castiel had let himself think that he had made Dean better. Made him happy. Then reality set in. Dean did not return from the store. Castiel thought he would lose his mind. All he wanted was Dean back. In his arms. His green eyes shining. His mouth smirking.

When he finally had him back, half drugged and mostly unconscious, Castiel could only hold him tight. He held on to him, holding him in his lap to be as close as he possibly could. All the while, Bobby was obviously not saying something. His eyes judged him and Gabriel both. Dinner tonight had confirmed what Bobby had thought. He was no good for Dean. And Gabriel was no good for Sam. Angels were no good.

"Cas?" Dean said gently, squatting in front of him.

"Sorry," Castiel said, looking away from Dean's handsome face. "I just have much to think about."

Dean's hand slid down his arm and sat warm along his hip, the other hand taking ahold of his. "Like what?"

Castiel studied their two hands together. How did something so mundane as two hands look so beautiful together? And the feel of Dean's warm skin on his was intoxicating. Suddenly the thoughts shifted. Castiel was not intoxicating. He was toxic.

His eyes snapped up to Dean's, Dean's chin tipping up slightly as his eyebrows creased in question.

"I need to take the cloth back to them. We do not all need to go. I can return it."

Dean's mouth dropped open slightly. "No way!"

"I won't subject you to them again!" Castiel swore, squeezing Dean's hand.

"And what good is going alone?" Dean asked, eyes darkening to a murky anger.

Castiel did not want to make anyone angry. While he had worn his smile through dinner, he was much more rattled than he would let on. He would say whatever he needed to, to ease Dean's mind. "Okay, I will take Gabriel with me. We can return it."

"What?" Dean snapped, releasing Castiel's hand like an opening spring trap and unfolding to his full height. "No."

"Dean,"

"Oh no," Dean waved him off, pacing. "You and Gabriel are both still wanted by those douchebags! What's going on?" Dean stopped, his eyes tearing into him. Castiel dropped his gaze to avoid the scrutiny.

"Is this about Bobby?" Dean asked.

Damnit. Castiel opened his mouth to hedge the thought and Dean shoved his hands in his pockets turning away.

"Damnit, Bobby," Dean swore softly. "He means well, Cas." Dean turned back, squatting in front of Castiel again. His hands gripped Castiel's knees as his eyes searched and held Castiel's. "He just cares. A lot. And working with Angels is taking him a minute to wrap his head around. But he will, Cas."

Castiel nodded, wanting to believe that, but the man's eyes haunted him.

Dean sighed heavily, his head dropping down onto his own hands. "Caaaas," Dean groaned.

Castiel pushed a smile into his lips. "I'm sure things will be fine, Dean."

"Be fine?" Dean asked. "What's that supposed to mean?" Dean's voice was rising and anger was hardening his face. "You're not going anywhere without me! So don't think up some crazy scheme to leave here and try to handle this shit on your own."

Cas swallowed hard. He had not expected this level of resistance. "Dean, I won't do that." It was a lie. But it was what Dean needed to hear. He did not like doing this, but he knew Dean well enough to know he would be hard enough to sneak away from.

A tugging buzzed in his mind.

"Do you promise?" Dean asked, eyes intense.

"I promise," Cas said. A nauseous wave made Cas squint and sweat start to break out on his forehead.

"Cas?" Dean asked, a slight worried look coming over his face.

An insistent knock sounded at the door. "Dean!" Came Sam's voice.

Dean stood, glancing to the door. "What?"

Sam opened the door. "What's goin' on?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asked in confusion. "Cas and I were just talking."

Sam gave Castiel a stern look. "What were you talking about?"

"Dude!" Dean yelled, hands held out and giving his brother a get-the-hell-out glare.

Sam sighed, looking at Dean. "Whatever he just told you is a lie."

"What?" Dean snapped.

"Chain spell, remember?"

Dean's face lost all its frustration, draining to a cold stare that landed heavily on Castiel. He felt his body bristle from the hard look in his eyes. He did not even ask, he just glared.

Castiel thought of several things to say, glancing at Sam, who was holding him in a stern gaze.

Castiel looked down at his hands and sighed. So much for sneaking away.

"You were gonna leave?" Dean growled.

"No," a stab of nausea made him clench his hand. "Alright...yes." The strain in his stomach unclenched and the nagging pulling in his mind cleared away. Sam rubbed at his forehead, nodding at Dean to assure his brother that that was indeed the lie.

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered, searching Dean's stony face for forgiveness. "I just want to protect you from them Dean."

"Let's get this straight," Dean said with a steely anger Castiel had never been the receiver of before, "I can take care of myself. And let's not forget that I vowed to keep you Cas. To keep you safe. But I can't keep you safe if you lie to me."

"I'm sorry," Castiel said, looking at his hands again.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Dean said, his voice softening. "And you're wrong. We stick together."

"Okay," Castiel said. He looked up at Dean, afraid, but needing him to believe that he was sorry. Their eyes met, but friction skirted Dean's eyes away quickly.

"I need some air," Dean said, leaving the room.

Castiel was ashamed for lying. He had lost Dean's trust for nothing. He knew he was glaring at Sam, but Sam just shook his head. "Dude, don't lie to my brother. It won't get you anywhere. And he would only kill himself trying to find you. Do us all a favor and be honest with him."

Castiel rolled his eyes. He did not need advice from Sam. Freaking Sam and his damned chain to his brain. He had ruined everything. His relationship with Dean. His plan to take care of Angel business and keep Gabriel and the Hunters safe. Anger ratcheted up like a roller coaster climbing a huge hill. Castiel grit his teeth hard.

"I was trying to protect your brother," Castiel snapped, glaring at Sam. His eyes narrowed. "If something happens to him. If something happens to any of you. Well at least we were honest about it," Cas spat bitterly.

Sam's jaw clenched. He looked like he wanted to say something, bit his lower lip and stalked out of the room.

Shit.

Castiel sighed heavily. Now he had alienated himself from everyone and yet they would all still be in danger.

Castiel sank his head into his hands, his elbows resting on his knees.

Shit.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut. He had no idea what to think. All this because he was paranoid that Bobby might not like him. It wouldn't matter one bit if Dean hated him.

He felt an arm slide around his shoulders and a head lean against his. His hand squeezed his arm and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"Gabriel, what have I done?" Castiel clenched his hands in his own hair.

"You were trying to protect him. All of us," Gabriel reassured. "And I'm sure Dean-O-the-judgemental would have done the same in your position."

Castiel shook his head no. Dean would not lie. He may sneak off, but he wouldn't lie.

"I've ruined everything," Castiel admitted miserably.

"Come on, baby bro," Gabriel squeezed, "you just need a good night's sleep. You're going to worry yourself into another stomach ulcer."

Castiel blew out a breath, relaxing his hands, drawing them together in a ball in front of his mouth.

"You need to rest."

"I need to apologize."

"You did. Now it's his turn. Don't forget, little bro, he has to respect you too. A mistake is a mistake. If he can't get past that, then this is not what you thought."

Castiel's eyes snapped to Gabriel's. His honey brown eyes were full of kindness and openness, as always. "Gabriel...I love him."

Gabriel's eyebrows climbed and his mouth pulled into a small purse. "You think so?"

"I know so," Castiel said confidently. "I can not mess this up."

"Okay, okay," Gabriel nodded. He grabbed Castiel by the hand and pulled him to his feet. "All I know is, you're exhausted. You need some sleep. Go to bed."

Castiel nodded. He sat on the side of the bed and just ran out of steam.

Gabriel stopped leaving the bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, watching him.

"Come on," Gabriel twirled his finger with a half grin to move him along.

Castiel undid his belt and pants, pushing them down and pushing his shoes off. He sat heavily, staring. He needed to take off his overshirt. The flannel he had started wearing, since all the Keepers wore them. His mind drifted to flannels, boots, guns, shops, Keepers, Dean. Castiel had wanted so badly to fit in with the Keepers. Their shops for Clouds and shops for Hunters. The community feel that Bobby gave Keeper's Cross. He had let himself dream of being able to fit in there. And he was ruining things and he knew it.

Gabriel was tugging at his sleeve, finally coaxing him out of the soft shirt. Down to his t-shirt and boxers. Gabriel herded him into a lying position under the covers.

"It's going to be okay," Gabriel said softly. "This isn't like back home, Cassie. These guys forgive and move on."

Castiel shook his head no. He felt a tear run down his cheek. He curled tight into a ball. He was so tired of being a let down. So tired of doing the wrong things. The things that were right that were actually wrong and wrong things he had thought were right circled and tangled in his mind.

He felt Gabriel crawl into bed with him, wrapping his arms around Castiel.

"Cassie," he whispered roughly, shaking his shoulder softly, "if he doesn't forgive you, we will leave."

Castiel swatted the wet track down his cheek, wiping it dry as his jaw ached from gritting so tightly. "Don't be ridiculous. You have Sam. And you deserve to be happy too, brother."

Gabriel chuckled humorlessly, "Funny thing is, if you're not happy, then I'm not okay. You were always there for me Cassie. Always. No questions asked. Even when I was reckless, ridiculous, or wrong. You always came for me. How many nights did you come to my room and hold me until I went to sleep? Patch me up after they beat me bloody?"

"As many times as you did the same for me," Castiel muttered miserably, grabbing onto Gabriel's arms for stability as he remembered long, miserable nights from their childhood.

"This isn't the same," Gabriel said again, his grip firm. "Dean and Sam aren't like our family. Bobby either. He's just looking out for his kids. And Dean...Dean might not be as easy going as Sam. But if his heart is half as big as Sam's, he will take the time to figure you out. And you have to let him in. And figure him out. You gotta talk, Cassie."

Castiel swore to himself he would do better. Communicate. He would be more open and find out every little bit that made Dean Winchester tick. If only Dean would give him the chance.

Gabriel kissed the back of his head, carding his fingers through his hair. "Love you, Cas."

"Love you too, Gabriel," Castiel whispered. His eyes were heavy. Even as his mind spun with worry and fear, his body gave in to exhaustion.

Dean was having trouble hearing. There was an annoying buzzing in his ears as he stared down into Castiel's wild eyes.

The bastard had lied to him. He was planning on sneaking out and being some kind of goddamn martyr. He was gonna leave. Dean should have known. Nothing ever went smoothly for a Winchester. Not him anyway.

He couldn't look into those blue eyes and stay mad. And he was pissed. He looked away. Anywhere but there. "I need some air," Dean said, walking out of the room.

Sam was still staring at Cas angrily. A small part of him wanted to chase Sam away from him, but it was too small to win the fight over what he wanted more, which was to leave. He entered the hallway like a bull in a china shop, until surprisingly strong hands snatched him by the arm, turning him so his back was against the wall.

"What!" Gabriel was standing in front of him with a pinched expression and a surprisingly strong grip.

"You would do well to remember that Castiel Novak is not the asshole you are treating him like he is."

"Yeah?" Dean snapped, "Then tell him to quit being a liar."

"Well, I'll be sure to pass that on. Because you must be quite the choir boy to have never told a lie," Gabriel glared fiercely.

Dean took a breath, pinching his nose and reminding himself that Gabe and Cas were brothers. Had he seen Gabe treating Sam anything but worthy, Dean would have his head.

But Cas was wrong. And Dean was right. Right?

Dean gruffed a sigh and pulled away as Gabriel headed for Castiel. He went down the steps and back out to the porch to get some space and some air. Charlie was already back in and was curled up on the couch, earbuds jamming a song as she played a game on her phone.

He went out to the porch and just kept on walking. He needed the air. And the movement. He had felt cooped up for way too long and had not driven at all. He found a bench and sat for a while. He had thought about doing the same damn thing. But he hadn't. He wished most of all that Sam had not had to get involved. For some reason it made him twice as hesitant to admit he was wrong or to forgive Cas and move on.

Dean sighed heavily, hanging his head back in frustration, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

His thoughts drifted from the bedroom scene to his life in general to all the small moments he had with Cas.

"Sleepin' out here?" Bobby's voice cut through his thoughts making him fully jump from his sprawled position with a mighty jerk.

"Jeez, Bobby!"

"Glad to see my stealth mode still works," Bobby grinned, sitting next to Dean who had a hand clamped over his erratically beating heart.

"Why you sleepin' outside? You in the doghouse with Colombo?"

"No. I'm not sleeping out here. And I'm not in the doghouse. Cas is."

"Huh. That was fast. What'd he do?"

Dean grimaced, not wanting to get into his love life with Bobby. Dean got to his feet and began pacing the brittle, cold grass on the ground. "It's nothing."

Bobby waited.

"He lied to me, Bobby."

"Bout what?"

"He said he wouldn't sneak off to handle this Angel deal on his own! And he was going to! Sam caught him. Good thing we got those damn chain spells. Although I'm gettin' a bunch of crap anger from Gabriel right now through mine. So, yeah. Awesome. He was gonna run off and try to make the deal so none of us got hurt!"

"Huh. Sounds like-"

"Don't even say 'me'!" Dean snapped, turning on Bobby, whose eyes widened at his stance. "And this is all your fault anyway! He thinks you don't trust him!"

Bobby looked away, chewing his lip and leaning forward.

"He coulda so easily slipped away and ended up getting killed! Just to prove himself! Again!"

"Alright, alright!" Bobby said, standing and looking at Dean hesitantly. "I said I was sorry. I get that he means well."

"Means well?!" Dean's hands were fisting in his own hair with frustration and he was pacing again. "I love that guy, Bobby!"

Bobby's eyes focused harder, his jaw closing.

"I do! And do you know how many people I have fell in love with before him? None! You wanna know why?! Because no one else gets it! No one else can keep up! And no one else-" Dean's voice dropped low, his pacing stopping, hands down at his sides in raw defeat. "No one else ever made me feel the way he makes me feel. It's not a spell. It's just him, Bobby."

Bobby nodded.

The men stood there, neither moving and neither knowing what move to make.

"Sam in the same boat with Gabe?" Bobby finally ventured gently.

"I don't know. Maybe."

Bobby scuffed his boot along the grass at his toes. "I do trust them."

Dean finally looked him in the eye. "Good. Can you let him know before he kills himself trying to prove it?"

Bobby nodded. "Trust has never been my thing, ya know? You ain't the only one grew up in this shitty Hunter-Keeper life."

"I know," Dean said, shoulders and head drooping.

"But it's no excuse. And I'll make sure he understands we're good."

Dean nodded, exchanging small smiles.

"So...love, huh?" Bobby chuckled.

"Shut up," Dean laughed, blushing profusely.

Again they stood there, watching night close down around them. At least they were back to a comfortable silence. Dean's thoughts began swirling again.

"So, how bad do you think my dad woulda flipped out about me and Cas?"

Bobby huffed a laugh. "He already knew you liked guys. He was fine with it, but you think I'm a tough sell? He would have had Gabe runnin' for the hills."

"And Cas?" Dean asked, fighting a smile, just thinking of his dad razzing Gabriel.

Bobby's look sobered. "He woulda liked Cas. He's all business when it comes to hunts. And he's bringing the Angels down to earth."

Dean smiled sadly. "Yeah."

"Sorry if I pushed things too far," Bobby said quietly.

"It's okay," Dean shrugged. "If I was better at relationships, I woulda handled things better. And Cas...he's no better than we are. God. We're a mess."

Bobby nodded and started heading inside. "Best I can offer is, don't go to bed angry."

Dean grinned as Bobby made his way inside. His eyes lifted to the dark house. Cas must have gone to bed without him. And just like that, there was no where else Dean wanted to be than in a bed. With Cas.

He made his way inside, locking up and re-salting the door. He went up the stairs as quietly as he could, pulling his jacket off and appreciating the warmly heated little house.

As he stepped into the room he and Cas were to use, he was a bit surprised with what he found. Moonlight streamed through the windows, layering the room in greys and blues. There were two figures, curled tightly together. For a few seconds, he thought he was in the wrong room. He recognized the back of Gabe's head. He was on top of the covers, shoes kicked off and an arm around the other person. Dean quickly realized the other person was not Sam. It was Cas. Cas was wound tight into a ball that seemed much too small to hold the man entirely. Gabe's arm held him tight, his hand lying limply next to Cas. Cas' face just peeked out of the covers. His hair stuck out dark and unruly, his expression pinched instead of relaxed. Both breathed gently and Dean just stood there a moment. It had been a long time since he had held his own brother like that. The last time was when Jess died. And it wasn't something he talked about. Ever. But the gesture was there. And it pulled at Dean's heart to know he was the one who had upset Cas enough to put him there. Unable to intervene, he turned to leave. He stopped in his tracks, thinking about Bobby's words. Maybe they had enough brotherly bonding to let Dean in. He did not want Cas waking up still feeling upset. He turned back to the room and rubbed Gabe's calf lightly.

"Gabe," he whispered. Gabe jerked awake, eyes blearily finding him right away. His arm clenched even more protectively around Cas for a few seconds and then he relaxed, rubbing his eyes.

"Go to bed," Dean grinned. "You're in my spot."

Gabe gave his brother a long look. Cas had not moved much and still seemed to be sleeping. Gabe slowly pulled his arm away and sat up. He turned tired, red eyes to Dean. "Are you still mad at him?"

"No," Dean assured him.

Gabe stood slowly. He turned back to Cas and then to Dean. "He meant well," Gabe whispered.

"I know."

"He...he beats himself up pretty bad when he lets people down. And my family made him feel that way all the time."

Dean pursed his lips. He did not like being put in the same category as the Angels. It was not fair at all.

"For what it's worth," Gabe said quietly, stepping toward the door, "I'm really glad you stopped him."

"Me too." The pair exchanged a weighted look. It was guarded and threatening and pleading and hoping all in the quick fleeting look. Dean nodded and Gabe left.

He took his flannel and jeans and boots off, crawling under the covers gently.

Castiel's muscles were tight. He ran a hand down his back, feeling his muscles like rocks beneath. Leaning over him slightly, he watched the scowl set in his sleeping face and wanted it gone. He ran a hand through his hair and slid his thumb down his cheek. "Cas?"

Cas' eyes flew open and he startled, much like Gabe had, scooting away in instant fear. Dean lifted his hand, letting him move and gave him a sad smile.

"Dean!" Cas gasped, his eyes closing and he visibly regained his senses. His body relaxed somewhat, still curled, and his blue eyes opened with worry.

Dean laid down and pulled him up against his chest, curling his arm around him as Gabe's had been.

Castiel relaxed hesitantly, muscle by muscle until he finally let his breath out slowly.

"Cas," Dean began, his fingers rubbing gently across Cas' chest, "I'm sorry I lost it."

Cas turned in Dean's arms, his eyes searching Dean's. "I should not have lied. Are you still mad at me?"

"No," Dean smiled. "It turns out, you're hard to stay mad at."

Cas pressed his lips into a thin line. "I won't lie to you again."

Dean ran his thumb down Cas' cheek, pausing on his chin, holding it and feeling the stubble growing in. "I overreacted, per my usual. I'm so sorry. We need to learn how to talk to each other. And Bobby told me not to let you go to sleep angry."

"He did?" Cas' eyes lifted back to Dean's.

"He did. And I need you to know, that leaving me behind is not an option. You go, I go."

Cas smiled, his body relaxing totally as he melted into Dean's arms. "Okay."

"And I won't leave you behind either," Dean said, his hand sliding up into Castiel's hair. "I promised to keep you safe. And I am. Even if that means keeping you safe from yourself."

Castiel sighed, his hands unclenching and running up around Dean's shoulders as he lifted himself up, looking down on Dean.

"I understand," Cas murmured, his mouth lowering to sit warmly on Dean's.

Dean's eyes fluttered closed, and his hands clenched into Cas' hair, pulling him deep into a kiss. Their mouths made love, slow and hot.

Dean sat up, Cas straddling his lap as they clung tightly to each other. They pulled each other's shirts off and Dean leaned back onto his hands, looking at the man perched on his lap. They both looked like they wanted to say something, but hesitated.

"Dean, I thought I had ruined everything. I thought-"

Dean stole his words with a kiss, wrapping his arms around his warm, smooth skin. "Nothing's ruined. We're gonna figure this out. Just," Dean panted, kissing him again, "just don't leave me."

"I won't," Cas panted back, kissing him rougher, pressing his hips harder into him, making Dean groan. "I'll show you. I love you, Dean."

Their mouths stuttered to a halt. Cas pulled back an inch, his eyes opening with apprehension.

"You do?" Dean grinned.

"I do," Castiel whispered.

"I love you too."

Cas tilted his head with a quirky look of wonder in his eyes. Dean smiled shyly under his heavy gaze.

Castiel's look sobered and he launched back down onto Dean, pressing him flat into the mattress and attacking his mouth with renewed flames. Dean gasped to keep up and wanted to laugh, enthralled with the man consuming him. Cas was moving his mouth down his neck, leaving a trail of molten lava. His mouth latched onto one of his nipples making him arch up into him, lifting the pair of them off the mattress before dropping back down again.

Castiel laughed, a dirty, filthy enjoyment that made Dean writhe underneath him. Castiel was now working his way down, biting along his ribs and abs.

"Shit!" Dean panted.

"Dean, can I?" Castiel asked, hair wild and eyes blown as he stopped with one hand on Dean's boxers.

"Yes. Anything yes," he answered, laughing at how freeing it was to let go and let someone ravage him so completely.

"Anything?" Cas asked, pulling the boxers away and shoving his own off.

Castiel slowed his movements again, his eyes meeting Dean's hungrily. "I want you." There was no sweet grin. No hesitation.

Dean swallowed hard. "Yeah."

"Just...let me have you," Castiel said, moving Dean's legs where he wanted them, on either side of him as he kneeled between.

"You have me," Dean said, shaking slightly at the total release of control. And it was what he wanted more than anything. He wanted to give Castiel whatever he wanted. He let his anticipations go, his control fade to nothing, and gave his body with full abandon.

Castiel took over with steady hands and constant kisses. He shook Dean apart until he wound him up so tight, Dean thought he might lose his mind. Then he proceeded to shatter his world in ecstasy.

When Cas dropped onto Dean's chest, shaking and sweaty from his own release, Dean held him tight. Their breathing evened and Cas finally pulled away, cleaning them up.

With one last kiss, Cas wound his arms around Dean's chest, his head pillowed by the smooth rise and fall of Dean's chest.

"I love you," Cas said quietly for the fiftieth time that night.

"I believe you," Dean grinned. He felt lighter than air and enveloped in warm happiness. "I love you too, Cas."

The next morning, Dean woke to silky, smooth hair in his face. The sun was full and bright and Dean hid his eyes in the back of Castiel's hair.

"Mm," Cas mumbled, burrowing deeper into Dean's chest. Dean squeezed him in tighter. The morning had to be late, but the house still sat quiet. He breathed out a contented breath and nuzzled into the back of Castiel's neck. They drifted back to sleep in a haze.

Dean woke to wet, open mouthed kisses on his neck that made him squirm and laugh. "Cas! Stop!"

Cas leaned up onto one elbow, watching Dean wake up with a grin.

"It's almost one in the afternoon," Cas mused.

"Really?" Dean was shocked. It was rare he ever slept that late.

"Really," Cas grinned. "We must have needed the sleep."

"I did," Dean yawned and stretched, feeling Cas slide his hand along his ribs.

"We really should get up though. Everyone else seems to be up."

"Yeah." Dean pulled Cas down for a chaste kiss. "It seems so wrong to ever leave this bed though."

Cas grinned. "We will just have to find another bed tonight."

Flashes of Cas inside him made Dean flush all over. "I could just kick my own ass for every night I spent close to you and not close enough."

Cas dipped his head, grinning. "We have time."

"I know. But still. What took me so long?"

Cas shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. But I was in love with you when you still thought my name was Jimmy."

Dean laughed. "I never for a second believed your name was Jimmy!"

"What?" Cas laughed, "I think I was pretty clever for being damn near dead!"

"Alright, I'll give you a pity vote for that."

Their eyes held steady for several beats until Cas leaned down and kissed him.

A sudden pounding on the door made both of them jerk.

"What!" Dean barked.

"Let's get a move on!" Came Sam's annoyed voice.

"Five minutes," Dean groaned.

"One!" Sam snapped back.

Dean smiled up at Cas, kissing him soundly and then they both crawled out of bed.

As they loaded the van for the annoying task of driving back toward Philadelphia, no one spoke much. And if Dean didn't know any better, he was sure no one was looking him in the eye. He scowled softly, wondering what was going on.

They all made their way out to the van, stacking coolers and bags in the back. As Gabe handed him another bag without really looking at him, Dean and Cas exchanged a confused look.

Suddenly Charlie was at his side.

"Mornin' Red," Dean grinned.

Charlie eyed both men quickly. "Yeah. House rules: when sharing small spaces with lots of people, loud sex is a no-no."

Cas blushed and Dean laughed. "Is that what everyone is so uptight about?"

"You're loud," Charlie grinned, shaking her head.

"I was afraid of that," Cas muttered under his breath to Dean.

"Yeah? Well it didn't seem to me like you were too 'afraid of' making me scream."

"TMI!" Charlie waved her hands, grinning anyway. Meanwhile, Sam and Gabe gave him bitchfaces and Bobby just wouldn't look at them.

"You have got to be quieter," Cas whispered, unable to fight the grin on his lips any longer.

Dean laughed and kissed Cas before leaving the back end of the van for the driver's seat.

Dean knew how to eat up a highway. The first day was a brutal 15 hours with few stops.

They slept late at a motel the next morning and were back on the road by noon. With 5 hours left, Dean headed south to throw them off their location, going back to Tennessee.

They ate at a Chinese buffet until they were all ready to burst and walked the two blocks back to their motel. They gathered in Bobby's room, listening as Gabe made the call.

"Michael?"

"Gabriel! How dare you call here!"

"Now look, I know you're pissed, but I-"

"Pissed!" Michael hissed, "You have no idea the wrath you have unleashed upon yourself and every Hunter ever born!"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Always sooo harsh, brother."

"You have yet to see harsh-"

"Yeah, yeah," Gabe cut him off, "I called to set up a meet to give you back the real bonding cloth and the feather."

Silence droned for a moment as Michael seemed to absorb the words Gabe had said. "Fine. Bring them here. Now."

"No, not happening. I plan on never setting foot in Philadelphia again," Gabe said, a crooked grin on his mouth. "You come get them. We're in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. Meet us tomorrow morning at Biggerson's. Say, 8:00am."

"Gabriel, you insufferable swine, that's absurd."

"That's me," Gabe shrugged with a laugh, "the insufferable, absurd swine. Be there, Michael," Gabe's face sobered, "or I swear to God I will leave them laying on a table to end up in a dumpster. Or in the wrong hands."

Gabriel clicked the end button, took the microchip out of the burner phone and dropped it into a waiting thermos of acid. They had all their chips removed and put into the thermos the day before.

Bobby screwed the top on and pitched the dead phone in the trash can. "Nicely done, Gabriel."

"I have my moments," he smirked.

"It will take them that long to get here." Charlie grinned, looking at her watch. "Still, we should be on the look out for any Angels."

"Agreed," Dean said, getting to his feet. "We should be at Biggerson's by 6am just in case. I don't want any surprises."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam sighed.

Cas picked up the duffel bag and sat it on the table. He unzipped it, pulling out the glass box and the wooden box holding the feather. "We should repackage these to something smaller. And keep them separate, in case they try anything."

Dean flipped open the glass case, lifting the bonding cloth out. It made his skin tingle where it touched him. "This thing gives me the creeps. I don't like inanimate objects that can think for themselves."

Cas grinned. "It never thought much of me."

"Huh," Dean said, eyeing the red, thick, silky fabric with distrust. He shoved it in his coat pocket, feeling it there like a living thing.

Sam opened the wooden felt-lined box and pulled both feathers out, holding them up. "Does it matter which one we keep?"

Gabriel reached forward, taking them both gingerly. "Both were used in ceremonies. I can still feel angelic power in them both." He tipped them both out, looking at Cas.

Castiel eyed them both. "It does not matter which one."

Bobby reached forward, taking the slightly longer feather from Gabriel's hand. It was as long as Bobby's forearm. Sleek, black and pristine. "This one." He put it back in the felt-lined box and put the box back in the duffel. Dean put the glass case in the trash can and the bag was zipped closed.

Gabriel glanced around the room and pulled leftovers out of a brown paper bag, putting the feather inside and rolling it closed. "Good enough."

That evening, they stayed close to their rooms, watching TV and keeping a low profile. Charlie and Sam ran out to exchange the stolen van for something else in the next town over.

The next morning, the sun rose as Sam, Gabriel, Dean, and Cas entered Biggerson's for breakfast. Bobby and Charlie were two hours up the road, headed home, with their feather. They had decided late last night that splitting up was the smart play. It made Bobby nervous, but the other four had deemed the security of the feather was what was most important. After all, the feather would even the odds for demon hunting and Hunters could use the help in that department.

They took a table in the corner where they could see their car through the large windows. As they ate a hearty breakfast, the four watched every one that came and went. It was slightly tense, but knowing the other feather was gone, made all of them more at ease.

"Here they come," Gabriel nodded his chin toward the window as a sleek, black Lincoln rolled into the parking lot.

"Wonderful," Cas murmured, "he brought Uriel."

"Yeah," Dean smirked, "that guy's a load of laughs."

"You met him?" Castiel asked, looking at Dean with concern.

"Yeah. He was my drug pusher while I stayed with them. Zero people skills."

Gabriel waved jovially as the pair entered the restaurant looking somber as ever and had 'we're on a mission' practically tattooed across their furrowed foreheads.

"Assclowns," Gabriel muttered, his fake smile slipping.

They approached the four, who by this time had been sipping coffee and waiting for some time.

"Gabriel. Castiel." Micheal said sternly.

"Michael, Uriel," Dean mocked.

"Dean," Cas warned.

"That'd be me. And Sam. Since we're making awkward introductions."

Sam huffed a laugh, but Michael's face tightened and his eyes darted to Sam. "Sam Winchester."

"Yeah," Sam nodded.

Michael eyed him steadily. "The hit on Sam Winchester has been lifted. Since we have new...thoughts...on how to handle things."

"Would you sit down already?" Gabe huffed. "You stand out like a sore thumb as it is."

Michael glanced around, sitting down smoothly, while Uriel just sat down.

"Where are they?" Michael asked.

"The feather and the rag?" Dean asked, receiving matching looks of disgust from the Angels. "Right here with us. But first we talk rules."

"Rules," Michael said, leaning back.

"Yep," Gabe nodded, pulling out a map. It was a US map that took up the entire width and at least half the length of the table. Then he opened a second map, identical to it, laying it on top of the other one.

"What is this?" Uriel growled.

"This," Gabe grinned, "is a map. We are doling out demon jurisdictions right now."

"I figure," Sam began, ignoring the irritated glares from Michael and Uriel, "you guys are here," he marked Phili with a red marker, "on the east coast, so we should set up shop on the west coast." Sam marked San Fransisco in red. The Keepers had agreed before the meeting to keep Keeper's Cross a secret, in case the Angels turned on them. It pulled at the chain spells to agree on the lie, but the tug was nothing compared to what Cas had gone through when he lied to Dean. "So...how do we want to work this?"

Michael was looking at the map, his eyes traveling side to side. "I know you expect me to hate all of this, Gabriel, but the truth is, the Angels need help. I do not condone how you went about this coming to be, but the result is necessary."

"Well, the fact that you were going to kill me and Cas, dear brother," Gabriel said sagely, "motivated us to use unorthodox methods."

The pair eyed each other with disappointment.

"So, you do need help," Dean smirked. "So why waste time on chasing Sam and me all over the damn place when all we did was gank a demon."

Michael gave Dean a stern look. "You killed Azazel. The repercussions of a high level demon as he are dangerous."

"Huh," Sam gave Michael a confused look, "so we should have let him go. The demon who tried to poison me. The demon trying to open the gates of hell?"

Michael pursed his lips. "We decide which demons can be killed with a measure of diplomacy, as to not upset the order of things."

"The order?" Dean scoffed. "Look pal, the order is this, humans first, demons last."

"Simpletons," Uriel barked with a scornful glare.

Michael sighed, giving Uriel a less-than patient look.

"Once we start chasing demons," Dean said, leaning forward, "we're not waiting for any permission or rank checks. If we can gank them, they're dead."

Michael sighed, clasping his hands together. "Gabriel, Castiel, you understand the order of things better than your...new friends. I suggest you educate them as such."

Castiel looked at him thoughtfully. "I will. However, I agree that any demon should be captured or killed."

"I see," Michael said, looking at the map again. "Then I suppose we are back to deciding jurisdictions."

Everyone looked at the map. They agreed on the Mississippi River being a good divide. There were more Hunters than Angels apparently, and the line seemed a natural and easy border. Lines were drawn and Gabriel wrote in the blue expanse of the Atlantic Ocean that Angels would not kill Hunters and Hunters would not kill Angels. Everyone witnessing signed the map as a contract. The process was repeated on the second map, Michael taking one and Gabriel taking the other.

"I expect some of our other secrets not be shared," Michael said, eyeing Gabriel and Castiel sternly.

"You mean the fact that you like using demon blood to tattoo Angels?" Castiel said, a tiny smile ticking up the corners of his mouth.

Michael glared.

"Dude," Dean said, "that shit's gross. I don't care why you do it. It's fucking wrong."

"And no more red feathers. Ever," Sam said.

Michael flushed and Uriel looked away guiltily.

"No more red feathers," Michael growled. "Now give us what we came for."

Gabriel grinned triumphantly as he pulled the brown bag up from the floor and sat it unceremoniously in front of Michael.

Michael's eyes widened in horror as he quickly opened the bag. "You heathen! How dare you put an angel feather in a trash bag that smells like...Chinese food!"

Gabriel shrugged. "Guess a feather from the devil doesn't mean the same to us as it does to you."

Michael scoffed angrily. "You truly disgust me Gabriel."

"Yeah, well, you were gonna douse me with hot oil and shove me out a window to my death. Can't say I give two shits what your opinion of me is, Michael."

Michael glared angrily and held the bag delicately. "Where's the Bonding Cloth?"

Dean looked at Cas, who nodded. Dean pulled the length of red out of his pocket, feeling the familiar tingle at its touch. Again, Michael looked horrified at their blasé handling of such a treasure. Dean handed the wadded role to Cas. As Cas' hand closed around it, the cloth slithered to life, wrapping their wrists together in a tight bind. Cas and Dean jolted in surprise, the cloth holding their wrists together fast with a strong tingling sensation. Dean jolted again at a snapping shock that ran through his mind. Sam and Gabriel winced, both grabbing their heads, looking at the pair with shock.

"What the hell?!" Dean said, pulling and looking at Cas in shock.

"The cloth!" Castiel gasped. "It's binding us!"

"Impossible!" Uriel yelled, jumping up and grabbing the cloth, unable to remove it.

"The chain spell," Sam said, looking at the cloth in awe. "The chain spell is broken."

"Mine too," Gabriel hissed, rubbing at his temple.

Dean thought about it. Yes, his chain to Gabriel was broken. He looked at Cas.

Cas nodded. "The chain spell is indeed broken."

The cloth flared red and Dean and Cas looked at it with shock again. A warm feeling washed up Dean's arm and flooded his chest. "Cas?" He asked as soon as he could utter a word.

"Dean," Cas said excitedly, "we bonded! The Bonding Cloth has bonded us!"

"Shit!" Dean squeaked.

Cas bit his lip, giving Dean a nervous look.

Dean looked at the dulling cloth again. He turned his hand, lacing his fingers with Cas'. "Okay," he whispered reverently, looking at Cas again.

Cas grinned widely, leaning forward and kissing Dean. Dean kissed him back, laughing slightly as he allowed the feeling of joy pumping through him to just flow.

"Look!" Sam said, pointing as the cloth went slack and inanimate again.

"Impossible," Michael mumbled, looking at Castiel and Dean in repulsed confusion. "What have you done to it?"

"Nothing!" Gabriel glowered. "Deal with it Michael. You were wrong. God and angels, ya know, the REAL ones, know when true love is true love."

Michael shook his head no.

Castiel unclasped his hand and picked up the cloth in more wonder than he had ever given it before.

"You've done something to it," Michael hissed, snatching the cloth. "A spell, something!"

"You ass!" Gabe snapped, "You're so blind in the faith people have created that you dare reject what a real angel has done?"

Gabe snatched the cloth, wrapping it around Michael's wrist and his own. "See! Nothing!"

Michael jerked his arm away.

Dean grinned, taking Cas' hand in his again, kissing it. Never before had he felt more rewarded from the universe for something he wanted.

Gabe and Sam had caught the gesture, both grinning at their respective brother.

Dean's eyes moved over to Gabe. "Gabe," Dean said.

Gabe's honey brown eyes roved back to Dean still grinning.

Dean twirled his finger at the cloth and winked.

Gabe looked down at it with a question on his brow. He looked back at Dean, a smile growing on his face. His eyes snapped to Sam's. "Shall we?"

Michael made a lunge for the cloth, but Gabe jerked it away, the cloth flopping over onto Sam. The cloth sprung to life, coiling around Sam and Gabe's wrists. Both men's mouths dropped as the cloth glowed red. Their faces flushed and Sam looked at Gabe in wonder.

"Gabriel," Sam whispered.

"Holy shit," Gabe said in awe. He grasped Sam by the back of the head, pulling him in for a kiss.

Michael and Uriel were frozen with a mixture of confused anger on their faces.

The cloth dulled and fell loosely to the table.

"That's enough," Uriel snapped. He took the cloth and cradled it gingerly in his large, dark hands.

Michael continued to look at all of them curiously. His normally snub face was suddenly clouded.

"We should go," Uriel said deeply.

"Yes," Michael murmured.

"Yeah, you might catch the gay," Dean smirked.

Michael's brow furrowed in concern. He stood slowly, taking the paper bag gently into the crook of his arm. He picked up the contract and tucked it into his suit jacket pocket. "Gabriel, Castiel, I know you don't trust me. But I hope we can some day meet as equals."

Castiel stood as Michael and Gabriel stood. The three shared a small nod, Michael turning to leave.

"Let's get out of here," Gabe grinned


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9. By the Hearth

Dean sighed as he pulled off of I29, heading through the north end of Sioux Falls.

"What is it?" Cas asked, watching Dean's relaxed face.

"Nothin'," Dean shrugged.

"He just doesn't want to be here," Sam said from the backseat of the Mustard yellow Pontiac they had stolen yesterday.

"No," Dean said, "I was just thinking about how bad I wanted out of here and how it doesn't feel nearly as daunting coming back as it usually does."

"That's because you're a married man now," Gabe grinned.

"I am not a married man," Dean scowled.

"Dean," Cas said, looking at him in all seriousness, "we are bonded. It is every bit as much of a marriage than if we had walked down an isle and exchanged vows. The bond is-"

Dean laughed, unable to keep a straight face at Cas' squirming. "I know, Cas. I get it. All of it. Forever." He gave Cas a steady gaze that made Cas blush a little. "But we're not married."

Cas closed his mouth, even though he still wanted to argue. They rode in silence for some time before Cas quietly said, "Am I to continue to live in the apartment building?"

Dean laughed again. Cas could be extremely take-charge in some situations and then there were moments like this, when he was so naïve, that Dean could not stop himself from messing with him.

"Probably," Dean said, keeping his eyes on the road. "My apartment is pretty small."

Dean strained not to turn and look at the puppy-dog look on Castiel's face. "Oh."

"Besides," Dean shrugged, "you don't cook. I really need someone who cooks."

He did glance over. Cas was wearing a deep scowl. Not an I-shall-smite-you scowl, but a you're-an-assbutt scowl.

"You gonna learn to cook?" Dean deadpanned.

"I'm going to kick your ass," Cas said.

Dean almost lost it, hearing snickering from the backseat.

"And I charge rent."

"Dean Winchester," Cas growled.

"Ah, see? Case in point. Dean Winchester. Not Dean Novak. Single."

Cas' eyes were bulging slightly and he was leaning slightly closer to Dean.

"You are messing with me," Cas glared. It was a hesitant statement, as if he could not decide whether Dean was being serious or not.

"Gotta cook," Dean whispered.

Cas glowered.

"Gotta pay rent."

"I'm not cooking. And I will help with the rent," Cas said, his arms crossing over his trench coated chest.

"You have to do all the laundry too," Dean nodded.

"You're an asshole," Cas decided.

"I'll let you ride in my car some times," Dean said, like it was so nice of him.

"Fuck you, Dean."

Sam, Gabe, and Dean burst out laughing.

"I will not cook."

"Fine," Dean sighed. "You can visit me on weekends only."

Cas' mouth dropped. "Weekends?" He said incredulously.

"Cas!" Sam said from the backseat, unable to hear the man in distress any longer. "He's messing with you!"

"Nah," Dean shook his head. "I'm not shackin' up un-lawful like. Livin' in sin. And not even gonna cook for me."

"Dean, if you don't stop looking like I'm scandalizing you, I promise I will scandalize you in front of everyone. I'll call a Keeper meet and show everyone just what it is you like about me so much-"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Dean yelled, laughing, Gabe and Sam hollering for a stop, "Fine! Okay! I give in!" Dean laughed.

"Of course you'll stay with me!" Dean reached over to grab Cas' hand but he snatched it away, out of reach. "Don't hold my hand and tease me! I don't even like you. Winchester." Cas looked steadily out the passenger window.

"Aw, Cas," Dean said, pulling at his coat sleeve, "I'm sorry. I was just kidding."

Cas gave him a smirk back, making Dean whack his shoulder.

"Do not hit me," Cas feigned. "My husband will kick your ass!"

Dean rolled his eyes, "I asked you forever ago if you were married and you said no. Now I find out. Well, who is he, cause I'm gonna gank that dick."

"He's quite the prick," Cas smirked. "but I'm sure you can take him."

"I'm gonna kick your ass, Cas. For real," Dean said, head shaking.

"So, are you my husband?" Cas asked.

"Nope. Mr. Winchester," he pointed a thumb to himself, "Mr. Novak," he pointed a thumb to Cas. "Both single."

Cas shook his head with a wry smile. "You're impossible."

"Are we married?" Sam asked Gabe, hearing the commotion from the front seat and the thought chewing at his mind suddenly.

"Absolutely," Gabe grinned.

Sam laughed short, shaking his head. "When we left Sioux Falls, I was chained to Cas and had absolutely no thoughts of marriage. Now I'm bonded to you and can't imagine life without you."

"Aw, Sammy," Gabe smirked, his eyes still twinkled, but his smile sobered. "I been running so long. I've been angry for so long. I can't believe I can finally think about having a future."

Dean glanced at Cas. Cas had an ornery smirk on his mouth.

"You're thinking about learning to bake, aren't you?" Dean batted his eyes.

"No," Cas assured him.

"How to use a slow cooker then?"

Cas shook his head side to side with a grin that made chills run down his spine.

"No? How to..."

"Keep it up, Winchester," Cas grinned.

"I'm gonna pay for this taunting, aren't I?" Dean smirked.

"Look smug about it while you can."

Dean's face heated with a blush that made him have to right the car back into their lane. All he could do was raise his eyebrows and stifle anything that threatened to come out of his mouth.

"No cooking, then," Dean grinned.

"I might try," Cas grinned back.

"Me too." He turned onto Maddison Street.

"Home sweet home," Sam grinned as Bobby's Garage came into sight, then The Roadhouse.

"Man, I'm eatin' a burger for dinner!" Dean cheered, damn near slobbering at the thought of Ellen's burgers.

"Sounds good," Cas said.

"You gonna join me?" Dean teased, waggling his eyebrows.

"Sorry," Cas shrugged, "I'm married."

"Uhggg!" Dean sighed. "Novak!"

Cas grinned at Dean's frustration. He was going to make him pay for all his taunting in the most delicious ways he could think of.

"Keeper's Cross," Castiel said quietly.

"I know," Gabriel chuckled. "Can you freakin' believe we actually live here? We know Keepers!"

"Why is that so special?" Sam asked.

"Keepers? Dude, Keepers are like half myth among Angels. Never been found. Never been able to infiltrate. Keeper's are like the great dragon behind the army, ya know? This team of special people who keep the Hunters supplied. Hunters...they're easy enough to track down if you want one. But Keepers are the elusive secret weapon. And here we are. Living in fucking Oz with the wizards!"

Dean and Sam exchanged a look that said they didn't get the hype.

Dean turned left onto Powder House Road. His shop, Black Dog, open and running. They turned into the alley behind the Keeper stores and Dean pulled into the parking space. "I'll ditch the car tomorrow," Dean said, shutting off the ignition.

They piled out of the Pontiac, grabbing bags and heading their separate ways.

Sam and Gabe headed for the book shop, and Dean headed for the music shop. Cas hesitated, Dean turning around.

"You comin'," he grinned.

Castiel nodded, looking at the row of brick stores from the back side. It may have been nothing to Sam and Dean, but Keeper's Cross was still exciting to him. All the lore. Access to potions and weapons. The ability to change your identity. All nestled into a tiny community in the corner of a town that knew none the wiser.

"This beast stolen?" Said a police officer Castiel had not noticed approaching them from the alley. She was walking with Bobby, the pair stopping at the trunk of the car.

Castiel looked to Dean for what exactly to say. He was surprised to see Dean grinning, not nervous at all and heading her way.

"Jody," he said, hugging her.

"We sure have missed you around here!" She grinned, hugging him back.

"Sheriff Jody Mills, this is Cas, I don't think you two have met yet," Dean grinned proudly.

"Ah," she smiled at Castiel now, "the Angel, right?"

"Um. Yes," Castiel stammered, offering her a hand, which she shook soundly. He hated that title. It made him feel like he was naked with all the world to gawk at his hideous tattoo. Ink of demons on his skin. Even Dean had been disgusted at the thought.

"Good to finally meet you. I've heard lots about you and your brother from Bobby here, but they were keeping you tucked away there for awhile."

Castiel looked back to Dean, still uncertain.

Dean stepped back, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Jody is sheriff of Sioux Falls. And a Watcher. Damn near a Hunter that year we had a huge vamp nest east of town."

"Uh," she rolled her eyes. "Thankfully I've had my machete clean for years now," she laughed. "But yeah, I do what I can to help these guys out."

"That's great," Castiel grinned. To have a sheriff on your side had to be a huge help.

"Saw you boys roll into town and thought I'd say hi, so I better get going. And Dean, get this thing in a garage, would ya?"

"Yes, ma'am," Dean nodded.

"Good ta see you all made it out alive," Bobby said.

"Yeah. It went pretty well," Dean grinned, looking at Cas. Got some real interesting intel we need to announce soon."

Bobby looked curious and Jody just smiled.

"I'll walk back over to the Roadhouse with ya," Bobby said to Jody, the pair heading away with another wave and smile from Jody.

Dean's arm was still around his shoulder and Castiel leaned his head over touching it to Dean's. Dean kissed him, Castiel barely feeling it through his hair. He tipped his head up and over a bit, easily landing on Dean's lips.

"Mm," Dean groaned, "is it bedtime yet?"

Castiel pulled back, fighting a grin. "It's not even dinner time."

Dean sighed and the pair headed for the back door to his shop. Castiel followed him through the back door, into the warm, bright shop. There were several people looking through CD's and he could hear Beastie Boys playing over the speakers. They went to the front desk, Jo sitting up eagerly.

"Oh, thank God you're back!" She gasped, springing from her stool to hug Dean and then Castiel as well. "I thought I'd never see you again!"

"That sick of working?" Dean laughed.

"You have no idea! And the paperwork, well, I just figured you could figure it out."

Dean sighed, sitting his bag on the floor.

Customers came to the desk to pay for several items, Jo ringing them out as Dean opened his laptop to check email.

When the customers left, they were the only ones in the place.

"Any downstairs business?" Dean asked, clicking into his mail and groaning at the three pages of emails.

"Yeah. I sold some guns. Ash approved the order. And Bela called but had nothing to say when I told her you were out for awhile. Oh, and this came," she said, leaning down to get a wooden box from under the counter, sitting it gently on top. "It came yesterday."

"From who?" Dean asked, stepping over to examine the box closer.

"No address. And I really haven't messed with it."

"That's good," Castiel said, stepping to the front of the counter and looking at the box carefully. "I believe this is a Dybbuk box."

"A what?" Jo asked, wrinkling her nose.

"It's a Jewish demon in a box," Dean explained.

"This writing looks newly etched," Castiel said, running a finger over the fresh carvings that ran neatly and tiny across the front. "It says to never open. The demon is mischievous and likes to start dissidence among people."

"Huh. We'll bury it out back of Bobby's. I'm glad you didn't touch it Jo. Never open boxes like this."

"Hey, I wasn't born yesterday," she smirked. "Looked like shady juju to me so I left it under the counter."

Dean sighed, sliding it toward Castiel, who took it.

"Would you give that to Bobby? And would you please take my crap upstairs?"

"Sure," Castiel said, taking the box gingerly.

"Want me to bring us back some burgers?"

"Mm, yeah. Might have to eat right here so I can comb through all this email."

"No problem," Castiel grinned. "Milkshake?"

"You do love me, don't you?" Dean laughed, leaning over the counter and kissing him.

"Holy crap!" Jo squealed, "are you two like a thing?"

"We are," Castiel grinned, taking the box and heading out the front door, like he was just carrying a lunchbox instead of a demon.

Castiel grinned as he stepped out the door, seeing the few cars of traffic roll by.

"Cas!"

Castiel turned, looking down the sidewalk and loving how tidy and pristine all the small shops looked. Charlie came jogging up the sidewalk, hugging him.

"You're back!"

"We are," Castiel nodded.

"Whatcha got there?" She nodded toward the wooden box.

"A demon. It came in the mail to Dean."

Charlie nodded, paying it no more mind than that. "Going to the Roadhouse?"

"Yes, I need to stop at Bobby's but then I'm getting dinner for Dean and I."

"Awesome! I'll come with!"

They walked around the corner and past the apartments and across Powder House road to Bobby's.

The lane back to Bobby's was rather long and frozen, muddy ruts ran up the barely graveled track.

"So, how did the meeting go?" Charlie asked, hands shoved deep in her pockets and her nose tucked in her collar.

"It went very well, actually. I think Michael may be changing his thoughts on things."

"Such as?"

Castiel could not help but grin. "Homosexuality, for one."

"Really? Why?" She asked excitedly.

Castiel did not know if telling her about his new bond with Dean was okay. They had not talked about whether they were sharing this new information. But he had put his arm around him in front of the Sheriff.

"Oh! This is juicy! I can tell by that gleam in your eyes!"

Castiel looked away, fighting the smile was beyond him. "Well...a mishap happened with the bonding cloth."

"What happened? Spill!" Charlie stopped, grabbing his sleeve, Castiel turning to face her.

"Um...Dean gave me the cloth to give to Michael and it..."

"What?!" She squealed, hopping up and down in anticipation.

"Well, it's just that I'm not sure Dean would want me to tell you yet."

"Oh my God! Dean tells me everything. I know a graphic description of your tattoo because Dean drools about it all the time."

Castiel's eyebrows rose.

"Dude! He tells me about the wrinkles at the corners of your eyes,"

Castiel's grin softened in a dreamy way.

"How your voice drives him crazy, in a good way,"

Castiel laughed, wanting to melt right there on the frozen ground.

"And on and on about your 'sex hair'. So, spill it, Casanova!"

"Okay, okay," he held a hand up at her bouncing frame, "but if I am in trouble for this, it's your fault."

"Got it," she nodded, hands on hips.

"So, Dean handed the Bonding Cloth to me. When I touched it, it...bonded us."

Charlie stilled, her eyes widening. "You mean, it works?"

"Yes," Castiel assured her. "And the chain spells were all broken. Then Dean and I bonded. It was..." a flush ran over Castiel's face as his eyes wandered up to the grey sky in remembrance of the feeling that had rushed through him. "It was magical."

"Oh my God!" Charlie wound out a squeal, hugging him tightly, Castiel hugging back, shifting the box away. "So you two are...bonded. What does that even mean? It's so freakin' cool! And Michael saw! Oh, I bet he was going crazy!"

"Initially, I believe he thought we tampered with it. Then Gabriel attempted to wrap it around his own wrist and Michael's. Of course nothing happened. But then he and Sam bonded and-"

"What!" Charlie blanched. "Sam and Gabe too? Damnit! I shoulda stayed! And here I was rolling along with ole Bobby."

"Yes, well. Maybe I should not have said that either," Castiel rubbed nervously at his neckline.

"Come on," she waved, the pair heading up the lane again. "Holy shit. So an angel from heaven has seen that the bond between you and Dean is a true bond. That's like...epic!"

"Yes," Castiel nodded, "it is. Charlie, please don't say anything yet. Dean said he wanted to tell everyone at a meeting."

"Gotcha," Charlie nodded, her nose shoved back into her collar.

Bobby stepped out onto his porch when they still had fifty feet of lane to walk.

Castiel still felt nervous around the man.

"What's this? New box for the feather?" Bobby grinned, but it quickly disappeared when the box came closer to view.

"What is that?"

Castiel held it out to him. "I only looked at it briefly, but I believe it is a Dybbuk box."

"Yeah, sure looks like it," Bobby agreed. "Who brought it?"

"Jo said it arrived by mail yesterday. No return address."

"Hm." Bobby reseated his hat on his head and held his arms out to take the box.

Castiel watched as Bobby turned it around in his hands. "Mischievous, huh?" He tucked it under his arm and looked back at the pair. "Meeting at 9:00 tonight."

They both nodded.

"Cas," Bobby said, looking at him with that layer of distrust gone, making Castiel relax a bit, "I want you and Gabe to help me set up this feather contraption. I was thinking it should be in the bookshop. Or maybe under the empty store. All we got in there is a half-ass medical set-up we don't use much anymore and a holding room."

"Sure," Castiel smiled, glad to be able to help with something.

"I would also like to put it to a vote tonight about making you and Gabe Keepers. Unless you're still set on being Hunters. 'Sup to you two too." Bobby clapped him on the shoulder, smiling warmly, "it'd be good to have you two around here."

Castiel was not sure how to respond. He wanted to hug the man, but held back. "I will talk to Gabriel about it. And Dean. Thank you."

Bobby squeezed him gently, dropping his hand and patting the box. "I'm gonna go make some calls before I just go and bury this."

"See you tonight!" Charlie said, hugging him and kissing his scruffy cheek.

Castiel and Charlie walked back down the messy lane and back to Powder House Road, following the sidewalk to the Roadhouse.

Castiel enjoyed hanging around Charlie. She was easy going and smart. She knew a lot about Hunters, hunting, movies, and most illuminating to Castiel, a lot about Dean.

"Well, there's my favorite Angel!" Ellen cheered, coming around the bar to hug Castiel quickly.

"Hello, Ellen," Castiel smiled warmly. He was relieved at the warm welcome, even though the Angel tag was still annoyingly attached to him.

"Hey! Already playing favorites!" Gabriel yelled from the bar. He was seated, having a drink and had already eaten something.

Ellen shrugged, "You've already been a pain in my ass for the last hour," she grinned at Gabe, giving him a wink.

"Just so ya know, Cassie, she's lying. I'm her favorite."

Castiel moved up to the bar, ignoring his brother's taunts. "I need two burgers, fries and one soda and one chocolate milkshake to go. Dean has a lot to catch up on at the shop."

"You got it, honey," Ellen said, heading back to the kitchen.

"Are you harassing Ellen?" Charlie teased Gabriel.

"Not really," Gabriel huffed. "This waitress, Becky is giving me all kinds of shit. She seems to have figured out rather quickly that I stole her Sammy away."

"Oh," Charlie nodded in understanding. "I'm sure she's hoping it's a faze, but, jokes on her!"

"No kidding. But it really sucks that she is the one that handles my food."

Castiel and Charlie had to laugh at that.

Castiel headed back to Black Dog with a bulging bag of burgers, Charlie carrying two of the three drinks. They went in the front door, Castiel watching as some teenagers were asking Dean about an obscure CD from Pearl Jam. The boys left, bag in hand and triumphant grins on their faces.

Dean chuckled.

"Really?" Charlie rolled her eyes. "Obscure Pearl Jam?"

"I know," Dean sighed, "but they were so friggin' stoked. I didn't have the heart to tell that nothing about Pearl Jam is obscure."

Castiel sat the bag on the counter, Dean's eyes widening and a hungry grin spread wide.

"That smells incredible!" Dean moaned.

Castiel stole a kiss, going to work handing out food.

"Meeting at 9:00," Charlie said, handing Dean his milkshake.

"I'll be there. I'll close the shop at 9:00 and be there as soon as I can," Dean said.

"Later, bitches!" Charlie waved, heading out.

"Dean," Castiel said quietly, sitting his container in front of him at the counter behind the desk with the register.

"Yeah?" Dean turned on his stool, his eyes running down Castiel's front and a grin popping quickly onto his face.

"Bobby wants to know if I want to be a Keeper or a Hunter. Gabriel too. He wants to know if I'm staying here or will I be out there." Away from you, was what he did not say aloud. How solid were he and Dean exactly? It had all been rather sudden. Not that Castiel questioned for a second what he, himself wanted. That was simple. He wanted to be with Dean.

Dean stood up, his hand closing around Castiel's wrist. "What do you want to do?" He asked. The brittleness in his voice that let on how unsure Dean was of what Castiel would say, made his heart squeeze.

"I'm not sure what I want to do," Castiel said honestly, "all I know is, I want to be with you."

Dean grinned, his eyes reddened and his grin wobbled, then strengthened quickly. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Dean," Castiel said firmly, pulling Dean in to kiss him chastely then hug him tight.

"Well," Dean said, still hugged tightly in his arms, "I'm supposed to be a Keeper for like 8 more months. Then I can do whatever I want."

Castiel pulled back, looking into those green eyes. Today they were striated with brown and gold. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Dean shrugged, eyes wide with openness. "I like the stability here. I like being close to Bobby, Ellen, and Jody. And then there's Sam. I'm not sure what he wants to do, but...hunting without Sam is like...it just never sat well with me. And I think Sam's pretty happy here."

Castiel nodded, listening carefully.

"But...I need to be out on the road too. I crave it. Maybe that makes me some kind of monster, but that's the real me. Hands bloody and stinking like sulfur and gasoline from ganking ghosts, vampires, or whatever."

Castiel nodded again. "We do not need to decide today. I just wanted you to know that Bobby is going to ask. I wanted to make sure I should be planning my future with you."

Dean huffed a laugh, eyes twinkling. "Yeah, Cas. You and me. Always, man. Told you when we met I was keeping you."

"Dean," Castiel shook his head.

"Cas. You and me? Bonded. For me that means forever. Like angelically blessed forever! Husbands or whatever, you and me are a done deal."

Castiel smiled harder than he thought possible. A line of something he could not describe pulsing with light and goodness inside his chest. He cupped Dean's face in his hands, kissing him. "I think," he kissed him again, "no, I know," kissed him again, feeling Dean's body move closer, "I'm happier than I have ever been in my whole life."

Dean kissed him back soundly. "Me too." The door dinged and they separated, both opening their food and digging in.

"Hey, Winchester," Gordon said, watching both of them closely.

"Gordon. What's up?" Dean asked, paying him little attention as he took a huge bite of burger.

"I see you have returned," he sneered.

"Observant, as always," Dean deadpanned, looking at the man impatiently.

"And I see you brought the Angel back."

Dean's eyes flicked to Castiel, Castiel turning fully toward Gordon.

"I assume this means one of two things," Gordon continued, his eyes boring into Castiel. "One, we now consort openly with the likes of Angels, or two, he's going to be killed since he knows too much and is standing here staring at me."

Castiel felt his blood run cold and his fists clench.

Dean leaned forward. "One, you aren't a Keeper. You don't make the rules. You follow the rules like the fucking dog you are, Walker. Two, if I ever hear you talk about killing Cas or any other Angel I will put you down myself."

Gordon's black eyes finally snapped off Castiel and onto Dean. "So. You put Angels above Hunters now?"

"Cas is one of us. If you feel you can function without Keeper assistance, get the fuck out of town."

"Gordon," Castiel said, unable to let Dean continue to talk for him. "You seem very sure that I am here to bring harm to the Hunters. I assure you, I am not. In fact, I have helped and have Bobby's support."

"It doesn't matter!" Gordon half laughed with a crazed look in his eyes. "You are an Angel. Period. It goes against all our code to have him walking around here like he's one of us!"

"Code?" Dean spat. "Get the fuck out of here! We aren't pirates! And-"

"Dean!" Castiel put a firm grip on Dean's shoulder to stop him from escalating the situation.

"Looks like you're the one on the leash, Winchester," Gordon observed, his eyes full of anger and hatred.

Before Dean could even respond, Castiel was past Dean, around the counter and grabbed Gordon with both fists by his shirt, slamming him back into a rack of CD's. Gordon's eyes were wide with shock and his mouth hung open.

"Get off me!"

"I've had enough of your uneducated threats, Gordon Walker," Castiel growled out, his face so close to Gordon's all either could see were each other's eyes. "I refuse to let a judgmental prick like you ruin the new life I have started here!"

"Get off!" Gordon screamed, scrambling against the iron clad grip Castiel held him in, CD's spilling to the floor.

"The Keepers will decide if I belong here, not you!" Castiel fumed, shaking the man.

"Alright!" Gordon yelped.

"Not another hateful word from you! Understood?" Castiel roared.

"Alright!" Gordon yelped again.

"Cas," Dean said, the rest of the world coming into Castiel's awareness. Dean's hand was on his arm, a gentle look in his eyes. "I think he got the message."

Castiel eased his grip, Gordon sliding down so his feet touched the floor again.

"You got the message?" Dean asked Gordon as if he were a toddler.

"I got it! Let me go!" Gordon gulped.

Castiel released his remaining grip on the Hunter's shirt and stepped back, still so close that Gordon could not even slouch without bumping into Castiel's chest. Dean stepped aside, dropping his hand from Castiel and allowing Gordon to sidle out of the space and into the isle. His eyes were still wide and he looked scandalized. He eyed both men warily and yanked his shirt and coat back into place. He left the store.

Castiel worked hard to bring his breathing back to normal. His hands were shaking and the faces of the Choir looking at him with hatred and disgust flashed in front of his eyes.

"Cas?" Dean said gently, stepping back slightly.

Castiel fought the Choir faces away. He felt like his tattoo was glowing bright like a neon sign. He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. CD's littered the floor around his feet and Green Day sang ignored over the speakers of the shop.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked at Dean, who stood waiting with his head tilted slightly, watching him closely.

"You okay?"

"I am," Castiel said, stooping to gather CD's.

Dean stooped as well, picking up what Castiel could not fit into his arms. They silently restocked the shelf. Dean patted Castiel's shoulder and went back to the counter to finish his burger.

Castiel stood motionless with one CD in his hand. A long crack ran along the front face. "I broke one."

"S fine," Dean said around a mouthful of food.

The crack distorted the scene on the front of the case. Castiel felt the crack as if it ran right through his own chest.

"Cas," Dean said in a warning voice.

Castiel turned, seeing Dean's worried face.

"I broke it."

Dean shrugged, not even looking at the damaged merchandise. It was as if Dean was only seeing what he wanted to see. Castiel felt cold fear run down his spine. Maybe Dean only saw what he wanted to see when he looked at Castiel. He had forgiven his Angel heritage without question. They were bonded but maybe more than bonded, Dean was blinded.

"Hey," Dean rounded the corner of the counter and put his hands on Castiel's cheeks, "what are you thinking? What's going through that beautiful head of yours?"

Castiel pulled in a shaky breath, suddenly terrified of Dean actually seeing the real him. It scared him so badly he could scarcely breathe. "Nothing," Castiel mumbled.

Dean looked down at the CD. "You broke a CD."

Castiel felt slightly better. A small voice in his brain told him how ridiculous he was being. But for some stupid reason, Dean seeing the flaw in him made him feel better.

"That'll be $6.99," Dean grinned.

"Yes. I will pay for it."

"Plus tax."

Castiel nodded. His shoulders relaxed a bit. He put his hand to his wallet when Dean captured it. "You're not paying for that, Cas."

"I am. I need to. I broke it."

Dean stood up straight, letting go of

Castiel's arm. "That fucker got in your head, didn't he?"

"No," Castiel lied. The absence of the chain spell making him nauseous made him feel all the more guilty. "Yes. Maybe."

Castiel pulled out a ten dollar bill, handing it to Dean. Dean sighed, taking the money and giving him change. Castiel felt slightly better, putting the broken CD in his coat pocket.

"Feel better?" Dean asked, not even joking.

Castiel nodded.

"Now come eat," Dean said softly, tilting his head toward his untouched food on the counter behind him.

Castiel came around the counter, taking up his spot where he had been before Gordon had put a stain on their happy moment.

The pair ate quietly, Castiel barely tasting the food. All he could think about was the hatred in Gordon's eyes and the damnation by the Choir. Hatred weighed heavily.

"Dean, I'm going to my apartment and do our laundry," he said, boxing up half his burger and his untouched fries. He put them in the trash can and gave Dean an encouraging smile.

"Okay. Come down at 9:00 and lock up with me?" Dean smiled.

Castiel could refuse the man nothing. "I will," he said quietly, kissing him and heading out the back door.

By 9:00, Dean had the 'open' sign turned off and the register locked. He heard the back door open and felt relieved to see Cas walk in the back door, giving him a weak smile. That fucker, Gordon, had hit some kind of trigger for Cas. Dean could see it in the rage it had unleashed and in the haunted look in those perfect blue eyes since. Dean thought of every weapon he had at his disposal and how he could use them on the asswipe. The slew of scenarios he had conjured with the hex bags had kept him angrily entertained for over an hour while Cas had been in his apartment.

"All locked up," he said, meeting Cas halfway back the isle.

"Laundry from the trip is done."

"Awesome!" Dean said, kissing him and stopping a moment just to really look at him. "Cas, don't let what Gordon said affect your thoughts at the meeting tonight. This is Keeper business. There's reasons Hunters like Gordon never become Keepers."

"I thought any Hunter who ran a shop became a Keeper," Castiel said, his brow scrunching adorably.

"No, no. Being a Keeper is a big deal. I know I make it sound like a punishment, but actually, it's an honor. It's like holding an office. Keepers get to vote. Although Bobby has final say. Hunters follow the rules we make, not that that happens too often. You just happen to come into this when shit is all stirred up."

"I believe I was the stirer," Castiel said somberly.

"You were," Dean agreed. "You changed everything. And it's frickin' amazing."

He kissed Castiel's stubbled cheek, seeing him grin, and took him by the hand. They had a Keeper meet to get to.

They sat at one of the tables in the stately reference room. Charlie and Ash were already seated across from them, getting nods and grins from both. Jo, Ellen, Bobby and Becky sat at the next table. Chuck, Sam and Gabe finally came in the door, Sam and Gabe arguing about the last customer they had and who they reminded them of. They sat, everyone quieting down.

Bobby stood up, Becky beginning to take notes. "Dean called this meet tonight. We need to tell everyone what all happened with the Angels.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look, Dean quirking his mouth for Sam to take the stage. Sam gave his account of their overall plan, what happened when they got to Angel headquarters, their escape, an account of the Loraine building, the feathers and the cloth, Dean adding to things they saw there. Sam continued about how they had escaped, how Dean was captured, how they had called Bobby, but Bobby already knew because Ash alerted him that Dean was being abducted. At least the chips had alerted them to that much. Dean filled them in on his capture and second escape.

Gabe and Sam told everyone about the meeting with Michael and the decisions that had been made and contracts that were signed. There were loads of questions and Gabe and Castiel answered everything.

Dean wrapped up the share session by telling them what happened with the Bonding Cloth.

"Dude!" Ash said, astonishingly still awake all this time. "Bonded by a real angel cloth? That's fuckin' awesome."

Dean grinned. His sentiments exactly.

"So, what does bonded mean?" Jo asked.

Dean had been watching for Bobby's reaction and was pleased to see the man looking eager rather than skeptical.

"I don't really know. Cas?" Dean said.

"It means our union is true and blessed by fate and the angels. There is no physical change to any of us. We can be apart. We do not have to stay together, as in, being couples. But Dean and I do share a profound bond. As do, Sam and Gabriel."

Silence fell as everyone thought about all the information shared. Becky had gone from looking devastated to a brave grin. Dean thanked his lucky stars (again) that his brother had been Becky's brother of choice. She was always weird around either of them, but her infatuation with Sam had been extremely noticeable.

Bobby stood again. "Now that yer all up to speed, I'm going to ask Gabe and Cas to leave and come back in twenty minutes."

Cas and Gabe exchanged a slightly surprised look. Dean ran a hand down Cas' arm, sharing a quick, encouraging grin with him. The brothers left, ascending the steps.

"Now, on to some Keeper business," Bobby said. "We need to take a vote on whether Cas and Gabe can be Hunters."

"Hunters?" Dean asked, somewhat surprised. "I think they should be Keepers."

Bobby nodded, listening.

"I agree," Chuck said, "as Angels, they are already Hunters. This is more about whether we feel they can be Keepers."

"I'd like to hear pros and cons," Bobby said, sitting back down.

"Castiel and Gabriel both have a lot of knowledge on lore and demons that we really need. Most Hunters don't know all that much about demons," Sam said, "if we are hunting demons now too, we need to be better informed. And both of them have sacrificed everything to be here."

"I think their connection with the Angels gives them clout to be here, Bobby," Ellen said. "I think we need them here."

Everyone nodded, silence reigning for several moments.

"I know I'm just a kid," Jo sighed, but both of them are great."

"Alright," Dean sighed, surprised with his own thoughts, "I'll play devil's advocate. What if accepting them in, upsets Hunters. Like, causes a mutiny."

"You know somthin' I don't?" Bobby asked.

"I know that Cas has hardly been here and Gordon Dickwad Walker came in my shop saying Cas should either be killed because he knows too much or Keepers now put Angels above Hunters."

"That idjit," Bobby swore.

"Yeah, well, Cas snatched him up pretty good. Scared the shit out of him, I'd say."

"Serves that piece of filth right," Ellen said. "But few of the Hunters listen to Gordon. I know the Hunters. Maybe better than all of you, except Bobby, and I think once they know them and understand why they're here, there will be few to no problems."

Bobby nodded. "Take ten minutes to think about whether or not they can stay at Keeper's Cross. And then whether they should be Keepers."

Silence took over and Dean dropped his head back in exhaustion. All he really wanted to do was go to bed.

Bobby stood after ten minutes. "Time for a vote." Bobby handed out slips of paper to everyone. "First question. Should Castiel and Gabriel be able to remain here, joining the Hunters? Yes or No.". Bobby collected the small pieces of paper and flipped the stack over on the table. "Second question. Do we make them Keepers? Yes or No."

Everyone wrote, Bobby collecting the second stack and flipping it over. One by one, he flipped each slip of paper. Unanimously, the Keepers agreed the Angels could stay and that they should be Keepers.

Bobby grinned. "I'm proud of us for taking this step forward to try and get along with the Angels. I ain't sayin' it will be smooth sailin' always, but those boys are worth the try."

Dean could feel a part of himself relax. Now only if Cas goes along with the Keeper gig.

Charlie ran up the steps, calling the brothers down. The three returned to their seats.

"It has been decided," Bobby said quickly, "that you boys are welcome here at Keeper's Cross. You belong here as much as any Hunter. And jobs as Keepers is yours. If you want them."

Relief crossed the brother's faces.

"Thank you, Bobby, and everyone," Cas said solemnly. "I just need some time to think about the Keeper position."

"Yeah. Same," Gabriel nodded.

A twist assailed Dean's stomach. He hoped Cas 'thinking about it' wasn't some kinda code for 'I'm leaving in the middle of the night'.

"Cas, Gabe," Bobby said, trying to not look disappointed, "I'd really like the two of you to work on the feather with me."

"Of course," Castiel answered.

Dean swallowed. Okay, so him disappearing in the middle of the night wouldn't be tonight. Just any time after the demon tracker was built.

"Alright, this party's over," Bobby said, tipping his chin. Everyone shook hands or hugged Gabe and Cas, welcoming them and telling them they were excited to add two new members to their wayward ass family. Finally, everyone drifted out except the two pairs of brothers. The room was quiet.

"What is it, Cassie?" Gabriel said quietly, sitting on the corner of one of the tables. He looked down at his brother who was sitting in his seat, still deep in thought.

Cas' eyes rolled up to Gabe and back down. "I can not stay here if many more Hunters feel as Gordon Walker feels."

"Who?" Gabe asked.

"Cas, I told ya that douchebag was not like most of us!" Dean rushed in, sitting on the edge of the seat next to Cas.

"Gordon is a Hunter," Sam said to Gabe. "What did Gordon do?" Sam asked, eyes narrowing from across the table, where he sat across from Cas.

"Moron came into Black Dog. Said what I told you guys earlier. Cas kinda...snatched him up and mighta scared him."

"It was irrational of me to react so strongly," Cas said, eyes downcast.

"I doubt that," Sam said seriously, waiting for Cas to look up at him. "I know my brother. If Gordon was saying something that got you angry, chances are Dean was angrier. You musta got the jump on Dean, which is good. Because Dean may have done something much worse that he couldn't undo."

Dean quirked a grin at Sammy. He was dead on. His hand had been on the gun under his counter when Cas was already all over the jackass.

"So, thanks. For not letting my brother do something he would have regretted."

Castiel grinned crookedly. "Thank you, Sam."

"Hey, what's family for?" Sam slid back his chair, Dean doing the same.

"Come on, Cas, let's go," Dean said, watching his angel get to his feet. They left the reference room, out to the alley, and up Dean's stairs to his apartment.

Dean could feel the heaviness in Cas' spirit. His eyes were a stormy blue. He sucked at cheering people up. Pep talks really weren't his thing. He had given Cas space today. Some time to think on his own and privacy to hopefully handle whatever was bothering him, but it was starting to look like something more was needed.

"I'm gonna get a shower," Dean said, kissing Cas' temple and heading for the bathroom. He washed under the hot water in the familiarity of his own shower. It felt good. The day had felt ten years long. All he really wanted was to go to bed with Cas.

Wearing only his boxer briefs, he exited the steamy little bathroom, finding Cas knelt on the floor in front of the fireplace in his bedroom. The fireplace was old and empty of anything to burn. More concerning was Cas' downcast eyes, lost in thought.

"Bobby says that thing works but I never tried to use it."

Castiel sat on his crossed feet wearing only his boxers. His back was straight and his arms rested loosely with his hands on his thighs. Dean's eyes raked over the practically naked form knelt in front of him. From the nape of his neck, the anti-possession tattoo in all black to the majestic black wings that feathered up over his shoulders down to the backs of his elbows, over his shoulder blades and feathered to the tops of his rib cage. Four blue feathers fringed the bottom, two on each side. It was like looking at a great work of art. He could see Cas' spine in the dip of his muscular back that ran down to the black, soft boxers he wore. It made Dean's mouth water. He wanted his mouth to explore every feather and every muscle.

Cas was lost in thought, not answering Dean. He knelt down behind him, putting his still damp hands on the broad shoulders. He could practically feel the silky feathers beneath his fingers and palms. Cas stiffened under his touch, his head turning slightly to the left.

"You," Dean said in a husky whisper, "are by far the most beautiful creature to have ever walked this earth." He could fight the urge no more, his mouth dropping to the cool skin, black and fabulous.

Cas' head dropped back a bit, his hair feathering Dean's.

"I think I can make it work," Cas said softly.

"What?" Dean said, his lips sliding along his left shoulder. "The fireplace or me?"

Cas huffed a laugh. "Both."

Dean crept on his knees closer until he could feel Cas butt nestled snuggly between his thighs. Somewhere between the bathroom door and now, Dean's shaft had filled and nestled snuggly into the crack of his cheeks. His hands ran down Cas' arms, coming to rest loosely around Cas' wrists, his mouth neatly fitting into the curve of Cas' neck. "I don't know how the hell I got so lucky to have you," Dean said low, his mouth mere inches from Cas' ear.

Cas' chin dropped down, his eyes closed. "I would not call it luck," Cas brooded.

Dean's hands gripped Cas' wrists firmer. "You really are an angel, Cas. A good one. A being so good that you're better than this dirty Earth you live on."

"Dean," Cas said, hurt lacing his voice, "I'm not anything like that."

"You are," Dean giggled, biting firmly at Cas' neck and swirling his tongue on the smooth skin in his teeth.

Cas groaned. "You are making it hard to think."

Dean let the skin slide from his teeth. "Good. Quit thinking. Just bring this incredible body to bed with me." They had had sex before, but this felt different. Dean needed to convey all he felt for Cas. He needed him see what he saw. He had to show him. Now.

Dean released the wrists and slid his hands up Cas' thighs, up his abdomen, his fingers sliding over the scar there, and splayed hotly on his chest. "These wings make me hard every time I think about them. Showing them off like this has me going fucking crazy."

Cas moaned again, his muscles relaxing. "They don't remind you of where I came from and who I used to be?" Cas whispered.

"I know exactly who you are and who you always have been," Dean said, trying to keep the growl out of his voice. He ran his hands back around Cas' torso and along the wings again. "I swear to God I could cum just feeling you."

Cas' head lifted. His eyes opened finally and found Dean's, holding them with a look of quiet desperation.

"I love you, Cas," Dean said, holding the gaze.

"I love you too," Cas whispered, a tear sliding down one cheek.

Everything inside Dean clenched tightly. He was desperate to show Cas that he was absolute perfection. That he was bigger than the Chrysler building in Dean's eyes and heart. He felt more full than his body could contain with love for the man in his arms. It fractured his seams to think Cas could think less of himself. He brushed the tear away with his thumb. "You're gorgeous," Dean said, his own voice catching slightly. "Your wings are fucking gorgeous."

Cas' face crumpled. "I hate them. I'll never be anything but an Angel and I hate it."

Dean's arms tightened, cradling Cas to him. "You listen to me, Castiel Novak," Dean said through gritted teeth, hearing Cas gasp for a breath of air, "I know a monster when I see one. Some Angels are no better than monsters. You are NOT one of those Angels. And an angel bound you to me. Angels aren't the problem. You aren't the problem. Ignorant fucks out there can take a hike!"

Cas' head was pressed hard into Dean's neck. Both of them were breathing heavy.

"I don't want to be an Angel!" Cas gasped, trying to pull away from Dean, who squeezed him harder to him.

"You are who you are," Dean said firmly, "and I love who you are, Cas!"

Cas wilted in his arms, his breathing evening. "I'm sorry," Cas whispered.

"I'm not sorry," Dean said firmly, "I need you to get it, Cas. I would walk out of this town tomorrow for you." The desperation between the two flared like a flint and block.

"Do you understand how much you mean to me?" Dean growled, Cas coming to life in his arms again.

"I do," Cas whispered.

"I don't think you do," Dean growled again in his ear. His blood was pumping hot and an arousal like never before was flaring low within him.

"Dean, I do!" Cas said back, a smile scoring his face.

"I'm gonna show you anyway," Dean huffed, grabbing Cas around the middle and turning them both so Cas fell forward to the floor, barely catching himself on his hands, Dean over him like a predator.

"Show me,"Cas said, rubbing his ass up against Dean's hardening dick.

"Spread those wings, angel," Dean huffed, watching as Cas put his arms out to the sides, his inky black wings spread wide along his smooth skin.

"Fuck yeah," Dean growled again, pulling Cas' boxers off, shoving them down his legs and away. He marveled at the unearthly creature beneath him. He grabbed at the handle to the drawer on his nightstand, pulling it open and digging for lube and a condom. Cas shimmied beneath him, Dean pinning him down again and pouring lube on his fingers.

"Mine," Dean growled, crouching down to lick and bite at Cas' shoulder blade and neck. "These wings are for me. They're mine." His mouth worked wickedly across the wings, his fingers prepping hurriedly to make way.

"Fuck," Cas huffed, pushing against Dean in a rush of his own.

"So fucking gorgeous, Cas," Dean panted, thrusting deep into Cas, feeling him sweat beneath him and start to shake.

"I need you, Dean," Cas moaned.

"I've got you." Dean put a third finger inside, spreading faster than he ever thought possible, but waiting for the muscles to give. "Baby, you're almost ready," Dean panted. He swept a fingertip against a nub, Cas crying out and bucking beneath him for more.

"Now, Dean! Fuck," Cas whined.

Dean sat up, lubing his throbbing cock and pressing it to where his fingers still filled Cas.

Cas lifted his rear, pulling his knees under him and pulling his hands in front of his head, the wings on his back flexing and rippling with straining muscles.

It took Dean's breath away. With his mouth hanging open in awe, he pulled his fingers free, grabbing Cas' hip.

"Uhhh," Cas moaned, pushing back for anything.

Dean slid inside in three stilted presses, Castiel puffing and bowing beneath him.

"Up on your elbows, Cas," Dean coaxed.

Castiel floundered, getting his arms finally in place and Dean pulled almost all the way out.

"No," Cas shook his head, turning back to look at Dean, "I need more. Everything!"

Dean groaned at the wanton need and plunged back in, holding Cas together. He was shaking apart in his hands like a beast that Dean struggled to contain.

Fully seated, he put one hand on Cas' back, fingers digging into the wings, the other firmly gripping his pale hip. "Breathe, baby," Dean ordered, watching Cas' ribs heave in and out and shiver.

"Dean!" Cas moaned.

There was no more thought after that. Dean set a brutal pace, fucking him with every fiber in his being. Cas writhed and cried out, meeting every thrust with the slamming of skin on skin.

Castiel came clawing and calling Dean's name. Dean watched in a lust craze that frenzied until he came, the world turning white and buzzing out of his mind.

Castiel was collapsing under him and Dean fumbled to collect him in his arms.

"Dean," Cas said, folding into him. Dean mustered his strength, pulling out and pulling Cas onto his lap, holding him tight.

Cas' sweaty head dropped onto his shoulder and Dean grinned at the look of bliss on his face.

"Bed, please," Cas mumbled, grinning wider.

"Yeah," Dean half laughed. "Let's do that." They got to their feet enough to tip into bed, feeling drunk on each other.

Under the warm, thick covers, they laced limbs together and let their breathing come to normal.

"Dean," Cas said, opening his eyes. "I can't...I don't even have words to say...I love you. Thank you."

Dean laughed, loving the lightness back Cas' eyes. "Dude, don't thank me!"

Cas laughed. "That was...life changing, earth shattering sex, Dean. I felt like thanking you, so, thank you!"

"Well, damn! You're welcome."

Dean looked at the man in his arms. His hair was drying and sticking in every direction. His face was flushed and more relaxed than Dean ever remembered seeing it. His eyes were light and tired.

Cas pulled him forward with his last scrap of energy. They kissed slow and dropped their heads in exhaustion, falling asleep immediately.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 Secrets and Strawberry Preserves

Keeper's Cross was in full swing. Word about Hunters taking on Angels had spread and there were more than the usual amount of Hunters in town. Bobby was busy fixing cars at his garage and talking to everyone at his house or the Roadhouse. Ellen was filling the Hunters in on the heroic acts of Gabe and Cas escaping the Angels and how they were working together now. The map/contract was hung on the wall at Bobby's house for any Hunter to see. Hunters signed all over the pale blue oceans on the map, making the contract quite an interesting piece to look at.

It was a lot of news and spreading fast. Most were welcoming and happy to have the new contract in place. Angels were always a worry when you were out on a hunt. Knowing jurisdictions and the fact that there was now a 'no kill' agreement made all of them relax a bit. Dean was insanely busy filling orders of ammo, guns, blades, and other weapons. Cas helped run the register with Jo's help. The three also hung out at the Roadhouse, talking to a lot of Hunters. Gabe and Sam did the same. Charlie and Ash were extremely busy with fake ID's and barely had time to socialize.

Concerns were voiced from time to time and Bobby or Ellen handled them with their typical diplomacy. Crude, blunt, and 'if you don't like it, eat shit and die'.

The weekend was finally winding down when the two pairs of brothers sat at a booth at the Roadhouse. It was late Sunday evening and the door to the Roadhouse jingled.

"Well, lookie there. The delivery man himself," Dean grinned. Lee Chambers and his daughter Krissy caught sight of Dean as he waved them over.

"Delivery man?" Lee asked, clapping Dean on the shoulder.

"Yeah! Delivered us Cas. I don't think I will ever be able to repay you for that," Dean grinned warmly.

"Well," Lee smiled, waving at Cas. "Glad I could fuck up for good instead of my usual brand."

Cas laughed and it made Dean warm inside just to see him at ease.

"Pull up a chair, man," Sam said.

Lee drug a chair over, Ellen showing up with a beer.

"Lee," she grinned.

"Thanks, Ellen!"

"On the house. Whatever you and Krissy want tonight."

Lee gave her a baffled look. "Thanks! Burger and fries please and whatever Krissy wants."

Krissy was already at the bar talking to Charlie and Jo.

Ellen grinned, patting Lee on the back and heading for Krissy.

"I'll be damned," Lee said under his breath, watching her go. "I heard some rumors about Angel business and thought I better get back here and see what I could do to help. I thought I might be walking into my own lynching."

"No, man," Dean laughed. "Turned out for the good. Very good."

Lee and Cas exchanged polite smiles. "Never really did get a chance to tell you I was sorry for shooting you."

"And I never had the chance to thank you for bringing me here. It was quite a fortuitous evening."

They clinked beer bottles.

"Did you send me a box?" Dean asked Lee. He had asked every Hunter he could catch that weekend.

"No. I've been in Cincinnati handling a haunting."

Dean nodded. It was starting to bother him that no one had come forward as the one to send the mysterious box.

"Got any hunts for me?" Lee asked.

"No idea. We were barely back when Keeper's Cross started filling up with Hunters. Been so distracted. You'll have to ask Bobby."

Lee nodded. "Started cyber schooling for Krissy. It's easier than pulling her out of schools all the time."

Dean and Sam exchanged a knowing look. The man had attempted to settle down last year and ended up being tracked down by a vampire with a vendetta. It had almost killed Krissy. So the pair were back on the road for now.

"I never did ask," Cas said, "did we get that werewolf?"

Lee laughed. "Yep. Two silver bullets to the heart. He was quite the nuisance."

"Lee," Cas said, "this is Gabriel, my brother."

"Oh!" Lee looked at Gabe with surprise. "We met before!"

Gabriel nodded with a grin. "Texas, right?"

"Yeah! He came into a case I was tracking. I thought you were a Hunter. He came as an FBI associate."

"I did. We sure swept that Changeling mess under the rug."

"Yeah," Lee grinned, "they got what they deserved too."

Gabe nodded. "That's the way I like it."

"So...two Angels here? Any more?" Lee asked, glancing around.

"No," Sam said. "But who knows how many of them would rather be here than there."

Lee looked slightly confused. Sam gave him a quick recount of all that had happened while he was away.

By 10pm, Dean and Cas were exhausted and ready to go. They walked home to Dean's apartment above his shop. It was warm and cozy and theirs. They crawled into bed. They had told their story so many times that he was tired of thinking about it.

Monday morning had Dean at his register by 9am. He turned on the overhead iheart radio, Kansas filling the air as Dean nodded his head along while looking through his emails again.

Cas went to work cleaning the shop windows. Dean had been relieved to see that after their night in front of the fireplace, Cas was back to his understatedly confident self. He had answered question after question about Angels. He had assured many Hunters that he was here to help. Hunters were suspicious and skeptical by nature. Knowing this, Dean thought the brothers were being welcomed in pretty well.

The door jingled and Dean looked up out of habit. "Hey, Bobby," Dean said.

"Dean, Cas," Bobby grumbled, looking pinched and worried, making Dean stop what he was doing and Cas followed him, spray bottle and paper towels still in hand.

"What's the matter?" Dean asked.

"I uh...did some digging last night."

"Literally or..." Dean grinned.

"On that damn box Cas brought up the other day."

"Okay?" Dean asked, Cas watching the pair curiously.

"I'm worried it ain't a demon."

Now all three wore pinched brows.

"Why?" Cas asked.

"It's the writing for one. It says the right stuff, but the way its written is off."

"So some demon catcher has messing writing," Dean shrugged.

"No," Bobby barked, pacing in a circle. "It's missing some symbols too."

"Okay, the slob did a shitty job. Shocker."

Cas and Bobby both gave Dean a harried look. Dean rolled his eyes. "Sorry Bobby, I don't have all the shit scraped off my boots yet from the last shitshow I was in. What are you thinkin'?"

"That's just it, I got nothin' else but a few writing nuances, two missing symbols, and a nasty gut feeling."

"Bring it to Sam's," Cas said. "Let's take a look at it."

Bobby nodded. "I will." He left the shop and Dean sighed.

"He could be right," Cas said patiently.

"Could be? That ole bastard's always right, Cas. I'm just not ready to figure out life's millionth mystery. I gotta balance this drawer, answer a million emails, call like ten people, and run this friggin' place." Dean sighed again, rolling his neck. "I just need a day to get squared away here and then I can jump on the next Hunter mystery."

Cas grinned, coming around the counter. "I'll stay here til lunch time, then head to Sam's to check on the box."

Dean grinned. "Thanks."

By lunchtime, Dean had five calls handled, emailed his vendors, and balanced the drawer. Castiel had run the store, cleaning and stocking and helping customers. He liked the simplicity of the work. It was good to see Clouds, Watchers, Hunters, and Keepers have common interests and mingle without threat of imminent death.

After dropping lunch off for Dean, he carried his next door to Sam's, where he joined Bobby and Charlie in the reference room. Sam and Gabriel were busy still filling orders for Hunters that were trickling out of town.

"Any luck?" He asked, sitting lunch on the table for Bobby.

"No." Bobby slammed a book shut and sat back, rubbing his eyes.

Castiel sat down, pulling the box to himself, looking at it carefully. The writing did have a curious tilt after each verb. Bobby pointed out the two missing symbols on a photo in a book.

"Now, I've seen other Dybbuk boxes without this symbol," he pointed to one at the end on the side of their box.

"Hmm," Castiel wondered. "Could it be a different type of box, still Jewish in origin, but not a Dybbuk?"

"Thought of that. I got nothin' if it is." Bobby pulled up another book. "I got Charlie digging into some other religions."

Castiel nodded, but his eyes stayed on the fresh carvings. "Was it made in haste?"

"No, I don't think so. And why no note with it?"

Charlie came to the table from her spot at the computer. "So, the box was originally mailed from Poughkeepsie, New York, went through the usual chain of stops until it arrived at Black Dog. It weighed the same at every check in spot."

"Poughkeepsie?" Bobby wondered aloud. His shoulders slumped. "I got nothin'."

Castiel stood suddenly. "Bobby, I told you about how our tattoos are created, using demon blood."

"Yeah?" Bobby said, Charlie and Bobby watching Castiel curiously. "The demon blood tingles any time I am near one."

"And?" Bobby coaxed.

"I feel nothing from this box."

All three stared at the box with new eyes.

"Maybe you don't sense it because it's shielded in the box?" Charlie asked.

"Maybe," Castiel and Bobby said.

"Got one way to find out," Bobby sighed. "I got another one of these out back I can dig up. Test the theory."

"We should do that," Castiel said.

Castiel watched as Jo expertly ran the digger.

"Far enough!" Bobby yelled, Jo raising the last scoop of dirt.

"We dig from here. Don't want to accidentally bust the damn thing open. A good Hunter died getting that bastard in the box to begin with." He tossed Castiel a shovel and the pair jumped into the hole. The ground was still frozen from the long, cold winter, making the job very difficult. Bobby lasted half an hour before Jo insisted she take over for him and to go get more help.

Castiel chipped and dug, hands freezing and the rest of him sweating with effort. Sam showed up several minutes later, soon followed by Jessy and Cesar, two Hunters that had been buying ingredients from Sam. The four made quicker work of carving down until they finally chipped away all the dirt from the surface of a large safe lying on its back.

The box was inside the large safe. When the door was cleared, Bobby came down, unlocking the combination. Sam pulled the door open and Cas thought he felt a twinge run through his wings. Sam reached in, pulling the box up and turned to Cas. "Feel anything?"

"Maybe," Castiel did not want to be wrong. Maybe he was just over thinking the whole thing. "Let me hold it," he said, pulling his gloves off.

As he took the two foot rectangular box into his hands, the sensation tingled and burned slightly throughout his wings. "I feel it," he said sharply, handing the box back to Sam.

"It was dulled by the box, but there is no mistaking what is inside."

Sam looked at the box with a worried crinkle brow.

"Let me see that old bastard," Bobby said.

Sam handed the box up to Bobby, who pulled a flashlight out in the dimming daylight, inspecting all of it. After several minutes looking over it, he handed it back to Sam. "Bury it."

Sam nodded, lowering it into the safe, shutting the door and spinning the combination lock. They all climbed out of the hole.

"Bobby," Jessy said, dusting dirt from his jeans, "Cesar and I can help. We're staying the night, so, if you need us, let us know."

Bobby shook both men's hands. "I'll let ya know. Thanks guys. Come ta think of it, head over to New York and see if you can find anything."

"We'll leave at first light," Cesar said.

Castiel and Sam shook their hands as well. They seemed like great guys. Castiel had shared a beer with them the night before.

"Night guys," Castiel nodded.

"Night, Castiel. Good luck with the box guys."

Castiel and Sam headed to Bobby's while Jo finished re-burying the safe.

Inside, Castiel and Sam washed up at the sink, thawing their frozen fingers and feeling hot at the same time. They sat in Bobby's study, each with a cold beer in hand.

"Bobby," Sam said, his voice haunted, "what the hell is in that box if it isn't a demon?"

"That was my biggest fear. If it ain't a demon, what the hell or worse yet, who the hell is in there?"

The three exchanged worried looks.

Castiel looked at his phone. Dean was probably getting ready to close up shop. "I'm heading home. I'll keep researching tomorrow."

"Sounds good, Cas," Bobby sighed.

"Me too," Sam groaned, getting to his feet.

The pair walked back to Madison Street, the storefronts lit up. It was small town America. Church bells rang from a Catholic Church down the road. It brought back a lot of memories. "Do Hunters go to church here?" Castiel asked.

"Not most. Some do," Sam answered looking off in the direction of the bells. "The priest, Father Jim Murphy, is a Watcher. He keeps us stocked in holy water and sometimes other religious relics."

"You have a wonderful network here," Castiel grinned, seeing the Roadhouse's sign glowing warmly in the cold night. He was growing quite attached to the place.

"Yeah," Sam agreed cheerfully, "next to the Impala, this was the most stable place I had in my life. The shop fronts barely change. The Roadhouse, Bobby's. Closest thing to home Dean and I have."

Castiel tucked his nose into his collar. Sometimes it seemed that he and Dean could not be any more different. Dean hardly knew what 'home' was and Castiel had all-but been smothered by his. It was odd how both needed stability and freedom and were managing to find a balance.

"Let's stop at the Roadhouse and pick up some coffee," Castiel suggested, dragging from the physical labor of digging.

"Sounds good," Sam said.

Ellen would not let them leave without dinner to go for themselves, Gabriel, and Dean.

Castiel smiled at the closed sign on the front door to Dean's red brick shop. He peeked in the windows, seeing Dean in the back corner playing guitar. He knocked on the window, catching his attention.

"Night, Cas," Sam said, continuing on to the book shop.

"Night," Castiel waved. Dean opened the door with a grin.

"Where you been?" Dean asked, taking a steaming cup from his full hands and a bag.

"I stopped and got dinner," Castiel said, kissing Dean chastely.

"So, what happened at Bobby's?"

Castiel followed Dean through the store and up the steps to the apartment above. "We dug up a demon he had in a similar Dybbuk box to see if I could sense it. I could."

"So," Dean said, flipping the light switch on and heading for the small table in his tiny kitchen, "what does that prove?"

"I sense no demon in the other box."

Dean looked at him with surprise. "Oh. So, what's in the box?"

"Good question," Castiel said, sitting and opening containers. "Something or someone is in there."

"Man," Dean sighed, sipping his coffee. "How badly must you piss somebody off to get shoved in a Dybbuk box? Jesus."

"Maybe we need to do a Hunter headcount, see if any friends are missing," Castiel suggested. He opened his container, finding fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans inside with a roll. "This looks delicious."

"Ellen must have decided I need real food again instead of burgers. She does that from time to time."

Castiel smiled. "She loves you, ya know. You and Sam."

Dean's fork stopped half way to his mouth. "Yeah. I guess."

"No," Castiel grinned harder, seeing the somewhat shy expression on Dean's face, "she really does. She lectured Gabriel and I the other night on why it was in our best interest to treat 'you boys' right. That she and Bobby love you like you were their own."

"She said that?" Dean asked quietly.

"She most certainly did."

"Huh," Dean smiled down at his plate. "She said that kinda stuff to me when Sam and I dragged our damn near dead asses into town last year after hiding for so long."

Castiel took any opportunity he found to remind Dean that people around him loved him. They both had self-worth issues. It seemed contagious that the better Dean felt, the better he felt. Of course, after the other night on the floor in front of the fireplace, when Dean had owned him, body and soul, he had felt put back together like a new man. Or better stated, the man he had been suffocating his whole life. He felt free in a way he could not put to words. He wanted to give Dean the same freedom. But Dean's ties and baggage were different than his. Castiel hated a part of himself for so long. Dean had shown him just how even that part of him was still him. And if Dean could love his wings (which he made clear daily that he did) then Castiel could learn to accept them as a part of him.

"Anyway," Dean was saying, "we don't do head counts. We aren't organized like that."

Castiel nodded. "Can you think of anyone missing? Do Keepers keep track at all?"

"Nope. You just come and go."

"How do you know if a Hunter goes missing?"

Dean shrugged. "Chain reaction kinda thing. You call somebody and they don't come back. We go track them down."

Castiel had a hard time wrapping his mind around the disorganization of it all.

"I know it sounds bad," Dean said, biting into his chicken, "but that's freedom. Freedom is messy."

"I see," Castiel nodded.

"But now that you mention it, I can call and check on a few people I thought might turn up this weekend and didn't. And I'll ask all the Keepers to do the same."

They finished their dinner and headed to bed. It had been another long day.

Dean woke, feeling warm and crowded in the best possible way. He grinned, tipping his head up to kiss the top of Castiel's head, which was nestled on his chest. He ran his hand up the smooth skin of Cas' back, feeling him stretch and groan under his hand. Never in his life could Dean remember feeling so good. He used to sit up nights drinking. Avoiding sleep. Starting his days cold and on the hunt. Now, there was a contentment coiled through his body that made him look forward to bedtime, waking in the morning, and every minute in between. Cas rolled his head onto Dean's shoulder, stretching and rolling over to his other side, grumbling. He was beyond cozy in the mornings. He was not a morning person, digging down into the covers or snuggling up to Dean. Both made it extremely hard to get up in the mornings. Cas' head was still on his arm and Dean curled around him, wrapping his naked body closer to his own.

Deep, gritty mumbling came from his partner. It was unintelligible and made Dean grin. Dean pulled back, looking at Cas' inky black wings in the pale morning light. Cas mumbled again and shoved his head deeper into the mattress. A slow smile spread across Dean's lips, watching his back flex and relax. His hand was again running the length of his back.

More mumbling and curling into a tighter ball from Cas.

Dean flexed his fingers, his nails scraping gently down the smooth skin. "Morning, Sunshine," Dean chuckled.

A whiney moan muffled from the covers Cas' face was shoved into.

"I didn't get that," Dean laughed.

Cas' arm shifted, pushing the covers so the fell over their propped pile back over his back.

Dean frowned. "Mm, no, no, no," he groaned, pushing the covers back up so he could see Cas' entire backside.

Cas' head surfaced like a gofer popping up for air. "Said I'm cold."

"Aw, who's grumpy?" Dean grinned, pulling Cas gently toward him.

More mumbling and eyes squeezed shut.

"But you're so warm and cuddly!" Dean grinned.

"Dean!" Cas half shouted, eyes still shut. "Why are you awake already?"

"Shhh!" Dean curled up tight to Cas again, "You are still sleeping." Dean kissed the back of his neck and around until he was climbing over top of him, kissing up his jaw and landing on his smiling mouth.

"I hate you," Cas smirked.

"I love you," Dean nuzzled his nose and mouth over Cas' ear, feeling Cas turn to lie flat on his back under him. Dean couldn't believe that this was the kind of shit that just fell out of his mouth on the daily now. His life had been so full of being the cold soldier. Stoic. Stowing his shit. But here, with Cas, he could just let those walls crumble to forgotten dust.

"I'm cold," Cas whispered.

Dean pulled the blankets up to cover the pair of them. "You just go back to sleep."

Castiel still had not opened his eyes, but his smile was sly and his arms were wrapping around Dean's back. "I can't sleep. Someone is pestering me."

"That's so mean," Dean sympathized, rolling his hips down and getting a groan in return.

"Ya know what I do love?" Cas asked.

"Not me, apparently," Dean laughed, biting gently down Cas' chest.

Cas' hands crawled through Dean's hair. "I love that I haven't opened my eyes yet and I still know exactly what I'm looking at." His hands ran down Dean's shoulders.

Dean grinned at the words and the hot shaft filling beneath him, pressing into his own, rock hard erection.

Dean crawled back up, kissing Castiel, his tongue barely seeking entrance before Cas opened to him. Their tongues slid, pushing and both moaned.

Dean pulled back, watching Cas open his eyes. A thin ring of brilliant blue surrounded wide pupils. His grin deepened, as did Dean's. "Morning," Dean murmured.

"I was having this really good dream," Cas said, rolling his hips up into Dean's.

"Yeah?"

"Yes," Cas growled, his hips bucking up harder, hands grabbing Dean and his mouth crashing into Dean's.

Dean could not exactly put to words how unbelievably different Castiel was in bed from anything he had experienced before. While he had had many partners in the past, nothing compared to the give and take, surrender and command of what they had so far.

Cas took control, rolling Dean onto his back, straddling him. Cas abruptly leaned away to get a condom and lube from the nightstand. Dean gasped a breath, eyes open wide with ramped up excitement. "Musta been a REALLY good dream."

Cas was back, smirking down at him. "I hate how you are turning me into a morning person, Dean Winchester."

"What?" Dean laughed, squeezing Cas' hips hard and watching Cas' eyes close and mouth open in want. "And miss all this?"

Cas' eyes opened. The wide gaze made Dean's breath catch. He knew that look. It was a look of awe, directed at him. It made his chest swell inside to know someone could look at him like that.

There was no more bantering or teasing after that. Cas opened him quickly and slid inside. Nestled tight against him, he sighed, Dean taking a deep breath in return. Just to be there. To be that close. It was life changing. Every. Single. Time. Dean watched as Cas' sated eyes adjusted, looking down on him. Hunger grew and Dean grinned. Cas laced his fingers into Dean's pinning his hands just beside his head. As he began to move, Dean squeezed his hands back, pushing against each other in a rhythm that had both men heating quickly.

"Fuck," Dean moaned, feeling a surge of erotic electricity jolt through him every time Cas snapped in. His hard dick bounced and rubbed between their abdomens, teasing, but not enough to please him too quickly.

"Dean," Cas moaned, his mouth suddenly taking Dean's, his hips faltering in their rhythm.

"Come on, Cas," Dean panted, needing much more.

Cas' tongue lost its motor control as his hips gained momentum and rhythm again. Dean clung his hands onto Castiel's now, desperate and frenzied. The heat coiling low was making him lose all sense of reality. Cas let one hand go to brace himself on the mattress and Dean grabbed a rung of the antique rod headboard to anchor himself. The stability instantly began a one way spiral that Dean could only open up and surrender to.

Cas' moans were wrecked and Dean huffed and fucking moaned into a full on roar as he climaxed hard and long, rolling from surge to surge until he was gasping and spasming and had both arms full of Cas. Cas jerked again with a residual surge, both men moaning.

As their breathing normalized and his consciousness seeped back in, he realized they must have orgasmed together. The weight of Cas on his chest was warm and he just couldn't get enough. He kissed his temple and rolled them onto their sides.

"I love you," Cas said, still high, warm and sleepy.

Dean grinned, kissing him again. "Love you too."

After showers and dressing, they came into the kitchen quiet and satiated.

"I love mornings," Dean said with a wide grin while he poured two mugs of coffee.

"Yeah. Their pretty spectacular." Cas accepted his mug and sipped the hot liquid, feeling it spread and warm him inside. He was busy at the stove, but wore the sweetest grin Dean had ever seen on him.

He put bread in the toaster, seeing that Cas was making eggs. Together, they had breakfast plated in minutes. Cas pulled out a bowl of fruit salad and spoons.

He watched as he put the jar of strawberry preserves on the table. He thought he used it all yesterday. He quickly spread his toast and dug in, Cas doing the same.

"So, working with Bobby on the box again today?" Dean asked, watching Cas' suave movements as he ate. There was a grace to every movement Cas made. He found it intriguing.

"Yes. I believe Cesar and Jessy left early this morning for New York."

Dean felt slightly out of the loop with the Dybbuk box, but honestly, it was fine. Yesterday had been insanely busy and today was looking doable. "Oh yeah? What's in New York?"

Cas finished chewing, swallowed and took a drink of coffee. "Poughkeepsie."

"What?" Dean snapped, his head jerking up to look at Cas carefully.

Cas stopped the fork full of eggs before it reached his mouth, seeing the intense reaction. "You asked why they were going to New York."

"Yeah..." Dean said, his eyes narrowing to watch for any kind of sign of trouble.

"The package that the Dybbuk box came in, it originated from Poughkeepsie, New York," Cas explained.

"Poughkeepsie?" Dean asked suspiciously.

Cas sat back in his chair, his fork lying on his plate now. "Dean, what did I say to spook you? Does that town mean something to you?"

Dean tapped his lips with his empty fork. Poughkeepsie was a word that signaled distress. It was usually followed immediately with fighting and/or fleeing. But exactly two people knew that word was code for 'shit's not right here, get out'. It was a word he and Sam had agreed upon as they lay under a car in a parking lot one night. Their dad had them along on a hunt. Dean was eleven and Sam was only seven. The monster turned out to be a shapeshifter. It had lured Dean right into a trap that took both the boys two days to get out of. Sam had known something wasn't right. He had guessed that they were dealing with a shapeshifter after finding a pile of goo. He had no way to tell Dean without either blowing their cover as Hunters or getting them both immediately killed. They had barely escaped and ended up sleeping underneath a car all night to avoid the ceaseless searching of the shapeshifters. By morning, they were clear. They had been cold, shivering through the night, Sam wrapped tight in his arms for heat. Dean made a plan then and there. A code word that no one else would know. Because no one else mattered as much as the two brothers to each other. No one knew their code word. Not their dad. Not Bobby. Nobody. For the first time ever, he was tempted to explain it. To share it. But it was so engrained, that his mouth still froze, his jaw locked tight. But Cas knew him too well. He had given something up. He needed to talk to Sam. His eyes drifted back to his plate and he picked up his fork. "Yeah. Bad night there a long time ago. Freakin' shapeshifters."

Cas nodded, but a crease remained between his brow and Dean knew he would have to explain further. Later.

His phone rang, making him jump since he was on edge. He pulled it from his back pocket. Sam. He swiped the screen.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said, stuffing eggs into his mouth.

"I just talked to Bobby," Sam said hesitantly.

"Okay," Dean said, not taunting him.

"Um...he sent Jessy and Cesar off this morning."

"I just heard," Dean said, his eyes flicking to Cas, who was listening to Dean's end of the conversation.

"Do you know where they went?" Sam asked, obviously leading him.

"I do. Cas just told me."

Silence bounced between the two for a moment.

"Are you good?"

"I am," Dean said. "You?"

"Yeah! Yeah," Sam breathed out, obviously relieved.

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," Dean said cryptically, but Sam followed the brotherly logic.

"So, not a message for me to..."

"No," Dean grinned. "Does anyone else know?" Dean asked, knowing that had to sound suspicious to Cas.

"No! Never!" Sam swore. "And Gabe thinks I'm acting 9 kinds of shady. I'm out at the dumpster taking the trash out. Just kinda ran out the door with it."

Dean grinned, his shoulders relaxing even more.

"Should we tell Gabe and Cas that that is our code word? I mean...I feel kinda like a jerk not telling Gabe. But..."

"I know," Dean nodded. It was hard to back off a secret so tightly kept for so long. "Yeah, I think we should. And it bugs me. Makes me wonder if it means something."

"Yeah. Me too. Okay. So, just the four of us. No one else. Ever."

"Yeah," Dean said.

"You sure?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Alright. See you in a bit."

"Bye, Sam." Dean clicked the phone off, meeting a perturbed look on Cas' face. His blue eyes were a shade darker.

"What was all that?" Cas asked. His plate was empty and his hands rested, folded on the table.

Dean grinned, sliding the phone back in his pocket. "I'll explain everything," Dean reassured him. He ate his last bite of eggs and held his last piece of toast in his hand. "So, Sam and I have a code word. A secret word that only he and I know. If we work this word into conversation, it means get the hell out. Run. Fight. It means somethings wrong."

Cas nodded, his suspicious scowl easing into an impressed nod. "That's very wise."

"Yeah, well, we had a close call when we were little. I made the code word and we have used it several times. It has actually saved our lives."

Cas nodded thoughtfully. "And no one knows this word?"

"No one. Not even our dad. Not even Bobby."

"I assume the word is Poughkeepsie," Cas said quietly.

Dean nodded, feeling that familiar jerk reaction race through him.

"Now you know. And Sam is telling Gabe. The four of us know it. And no one else. No one," Dean said, leaning forward a bit, holding Cas' gaze.

"I understand," Cas grinned softly. Something shifted in his face and he stood up, coming to Dean's side. "Thank you for sharing such a sacred secret." He kissed Dean softly on the lips. It felt like they were sealing a deal. Cas stood, rubbing a thumb along Dean's jaw line, the pair locked in a gaze for a moment.

Dean nodded the tiniest bit. Cas grinned and turned, washing the few dishes.

Dean looked down at his toast, taking a bite and relishing the preserves as he always did. Cas plucked the plate and fork up, Dean watching him work. His eyes drifted back to his toast. He felt like a very secret circle inside his heart had just been stretched. It was a comfortable fit. His thoughts drifted to the beauty of the simple morning they had together. Simple, yet freaking perfect. He took another bite. As the strawberries spread over his tongue, a thought occurred to him. "I thought I was out of jelly," Dean said, trying to change the subject from the warm, fuzzy thoughts that were turning his brain to sap about Cas.

"You were. I noticed you like strawberry preserves, so I picked some up yesterday." Cas sat the plate in the drying rack, draining the sink and drying his hands.

Dean put the last bite into his mouth. "Thanks, Cas," he said quietly.

Cas turned to him again. He shrugged and grinned. He went into the living room area and sat on the couch to put his shoes on.

Dean's mind was buzzing. There was no reason to wait. There was nothing stopping him. He felt his heart rate pick up to accommodate all the emotion he was holding inside. Cas was perfect. Perfect for him. Dean could care less at the moment if they grew old right here in this small apartment or hit the road and became Hunters. All the holes he had were filled in with this one person. His person. He was sitting sideways in the kitchen chair, ready to stand, but frozen in realization. Cas dropped his foot, both shoes on now, and stuck his phone in his pocket. He was so normal. And yet, not at all. He was tarnished and scarred, like Dean. He melded so seamlessly into Dean's life that it was like seeing in full color for the first time. Cas glanced up, doing a double take, his eyes connecting with Dean's. Cas grinned in response to the look on his face and Dean swallowed hard. Castiel's brows knitted slightly. "Are you okay?" He asked, getting to his feet and crossing the room to stand in front of Dean. Dean looked up into his ocean blue eyes, biting his lip. Cas tilted his head to the side and a wash of adoration flooded Dean.

Cas squatted in front of him, Dean taking his hands instinctively. He wanted to second guess his rush of emotion, but the memory of the feelings that coarsed through him during the bonding gave him encouragement he otherwise would never have had.

"Cas," he said, clearing the emotion from his throat. He swallowed hard again and could feel his eyes stinging, threatening to cry.

"Dean," Cas said gently, his head tilting again and eyes full of concern.

"Cas, marry me. Now. Today."

Cas' mouth dropped open, his blue eyes widening. His cheeks flushed and Dean squeezed his hands tighter, trying to impress through touch just how serious he was.

"Is this about the jelly?" Cas stammered. "The code word?"

"No," Dean blushed, his eyes dropping to their tightly held hands. "Yes. Not really."

Cas dropped onto his knees, walking between Dean's knees to get closer to him. He let go of Dean's hands, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist. His eyes were still wide, but had softened, the shock shifting into a grin. "Dean, yes. Of course."

"For real?" Dean asked, grinning so hard his eyes were squinting hard. His hands slid around Cas' shoulders to run his fingers through the back of Cas' hair.

Cas laughed, his eyes searching Dean's face with some disbelief. "Yes! For real!"

Dean laughed, choking up slightly and kissing him deeply.

Cas pulled back. "It might not happen today," Cas grinned, "but yes. Every day. Forever."

Dean hugged him tight, holding him and just taking in every muscle, line, and angle. This was his.

They sat back, Cas sitting back on his feet, both watching the other with ridiculous grins plastered on their faces.

"This is so crazy!" Cas laughed. His eyes were bright with tears and he covered his mouth with one hand, then dropping it. "I mean...I just picked up a jar of strawberry preserves!" He laughed.

"It's just...you," Dean shook his head. "I don't want to wait. I already know that this is what I want. Every day."

A mix of emotions played across his face. "Are you sure? I'm just...me."

Dean smiled softly, pulling Cas back to him. "Absolutely. And I'm just me."

They kissed again, Dean letting himself be pulled from the chair to lay on top of Cas right there on the floor. They peppered each other with kisses and exchanged 'I love you's.

"We have to go," Cas laughed from under Dean's weight.

"I'm feeling disinclined to acquiesce your request."

Cas rumbled a laugh, still holding Dean tight. "Was that a movie reference? I don't get that reference." The pair laughed.

"Hey, you knew it was a reference, you're getting better!" Dean laughed.

"Well, too bad, Keeper. I have a box to get to and you have a shop to open."

"Details," Dean laughed, planting a playful kiss on Cas' mouth.

Dean and Cas came down their apartment steps to find Bobby, Charlie, Sam and Gabe talking in the alley. They joined the circle, blending in quickly to cover for their late arrival.

"But Ash says the routing I traced is sound," Charlie defended.

"Okay," Bobby raised his hands in defense. "I just thought double checking was a good idea. My bad."

Charlie crossed her arms over her small frame. "I stand behind my work."

"I'm sure you're absolutely correct," Bobby nodded.

"It's going to take them until tomorrow to get to New York," Sam shrugged. "I still have a ton of work to do in the shop."

"Me too," Dean chipped in.

"Fine, so Cas and Gabe can help me hit the books," Bobby nodded.

The group split up, shop keepers going to their shops and the other three heading down to Sam's reference room.

Bobby quickly set up three piles of books, a stack for each of them.

As they dug in, Bobby sat at his spot.

"Bobby, these are all about witches," Gabriel said, looking over the teetering stack of spines.

"Sharp as a tack, Gabriel," Bobby said, not looking up from his first book.

"What the hell?" Gabriel stammered.

"I don't know," Bobby sighed. "Find us a spell that will tell us what's in there."

Gabriel and Castiel exchanged a curious look. Castiel turned back to his own stack. It was an assortment of topics. He pulled the first book off the top and opened it.

At 1:00 in the afternoon, Dean decided the group was not coming up for air, so he would go down. He got Jo to watch the shop and headed over to Sam's.

Dean pulled open the heavy wood and glass front door. It always smelled of old paper in here and it was warm. The smell of fresh brewed coffee wafted through the air. "Hey, Sammy," Dean called.

"Hey, Dean," Sam called from several rows away.

"Thought I'd drag the bookworms out for lunch," he said as he weaved his way toward the back of the store.

"Sounds good," Sam said as Dean rounded the row he was in.

"You wanna go?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, sure." Sam put four new books into a neat stack in a spot he had just cleared.

"So, you and Gabe talked?" Dean asked quietly.

"We did," Sam grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning against the tall shelf. "Felt...really weird. But not. Ya know?"

Dean huffed a laugh. "Yeah. It is weird. And crazy. And really good," Dean ended softly.

Sam had a huge grin on his face and a far away look in his eyes.

"I asked Cas to marry me," Dean blurted, unable to keep it quiet any longer.

"What!" Sam said, getting to his full height and coming into focus all in one staggered move. "You did what?"

Dean laughed. "I did. This morning. I wasn't really planning it. It just sorta came out."

"Holy shit!" Sam grinned.

"Yeah!" Dean nodded shyly. "It's weird. And crazy. Right?"

"And really good, Dean!" Sam laughed, hugging Dean in his tight bear hug that engulfed him. There were no hugs quite like Sam's. Dean enjoyed the moment.

"Congratulations, man!" Sam said, taking a step back.

"You assume he said yes," Dean grinned.

"Huh! You're kidding, right? Just take one look at him. He's invested. Hook, like, and sinker."

Dean smiled, looking away. "It doesn't freak you out?"

"You getting married?" Sam asked. "Nah. It's gonna be good. I know it."

"Okay," Dean nodded. "How bout you two?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "We want the whole thing. The whole white Pickett fence, house, dog."

"Wow," Dean rocked back on his heels.

"Yeah," Sam said, growing slightly nervous. "Gabe and I want to work out my Keeper deal with Bobby. Then I'm not sure what we'll do. We might leave. We might stay here. We just don't really know yet."

Dean could see how anxious it made Sam to talk about stepping out of the Keeper/Hunter life.

"Sam," Dean said firmly, putting his hand on Sam's shoulder and getting a full-on worried look, "you should take your time and do what you want. You have a right to step out of this life. Both of you."

It was the first time Dean had been of this opinion and he knew Sam would be surprised. "We have given more than enough, Sammy. Whatever it is you two decide to do, I got your back."

Sam lunged forward, hugging Dean again in a bone-popping crunch.

"Thanks, Dean," he heard muffled up against his head.

"Course, Sammy," Dean hugged back. The two stepped back again, both taking a deep breath and Sam heading out of the isle toward the back door.

"So, when do you think you will be getting hitched?" Sam asked.

"I have paperwork started. I was hoping today, but might have to wait until tomorrow."

Sam had stopped in his tracks, turning a shocked look on Dean. "Today?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably tomorrow."

"Holy shit! You want this like, now!"

"Like yesterday," Dean grinned confidently.

Sam's mouth opened and closed a few times, but nothing came out. "Dude," he finally managed, "that's really fast! You've only known him a few weeks!"

"Come on man," Dean laughed, enjoying how Sam got all concerned and worried and in general, girly. "Blessed by an angel?" He reminded him.

"I know!" Sam agreed hesitantly. "It's just..."

"It's gonna be fine, Sam," Dean grinned. "Everyone moves at their own pace. If it takes you and Gabe ten years to figure out what Cas and I did in a few days-"

"Oh my God," Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't be a dick."

Dean headed for the back door, Sam following.

"Maybe at our 25th Anniversary party you two can tie the knot."

"Shut up, Dean."

Dean laughed. "No, seriously man, we're just ready."

They finally reached the reference room with its heavy paper-mahogany smell.

"Hey nerds," Dean called, making all four heads pop up from stacks of books. The fact that Bobby snorted awake did not get missed by any of them.

"There is still life out there," Gabe said dramatically.

"I think its lunch time," Sam said.

"God, I love you," Gabriel hopped up and hugged Sam, kissing him. "My tyrant of a brother would not let me even have a snack!"

Castiel grinned, stretching.

"You guys figure anything out?" Dean asked.

Charlie stood up. "Found out loads of useless information."

"Im gonna have witch nightmares forever," Gabriel complained.

"I got nothin'," Bobby grumbled.

"Go eat," Dean encouraged. "Get some air."

Gabe and Sam were already heading up the steps. Bobby and Charlie soon joined them. Cas was on his feet, but seemed to understand Dean wanted a private moment.

Dean leaned against a table, pulling Cas into his arms and kissed him. "Sorry your research sucked."

Cas grinned. "It's daunting."

"I, on the other hand, handled all my research with efficiency." He kissed Cas again.

"What research?" Cas grinned, his fingers sneaking under the hem of his t-shirt, making Dean shiver.

"I have both our marriage applications printed and filled out. We have to take them to the Register of Deeds office and sign them in front of people."

Cas' eyes widened and his grin grew. He leaned back a little to listen with excitement.

"Ash has your South Dakota driver's license made and the JP is open until 7."

Cas stammered a few seconds. "You really did mean today!" His hands were cupping Dean's face.

"I did," Dean said low. "Tomorrow at the latest. Wanted to talk to you first. We do have a few things to talk about before we go signing dotted lines."

"What?" Cas asked excitedly.

"Do you want any family here?" Dean asked.

"Just Gabe," Cas answered quickly, his enthusiasm only building more.

"Okay," Dean grinned, kissing him. "What about our names?"

"Oh," Cas said with some wonder in his voice.

"We could keep our own last names or I could be a Novak or you could be a Winchester," Dean said.

"I want to have the same last name," Cas grinned softly. "I want to be Castiel Winchester."

"Yeah?" Dean smiled like a school boy. "You wanna have my name?"

"Yes."

They kissed a long moment.

Dean pulled back, rubbing a thumb along Cas' bottom lip. "Are we telling everybody?"

"Yes!" Cas grinned. "I already told Gabriel. He seemed a little surprised, but he's all for it."

"Alright. Sam knows too. He reacted the same way. I think their just jealous."

"What else do we need to do?" Cas asked excitedly, stepping back from Dean and pulling him by the hand toward the stairs.

"After lunch we can take our application over and sign it, get the license and see how quickly they move that along."

"Why didn't you just have Ash make us one?" Cas asked, holding the door to the alley open for Dean.

Dean put his arm around Cas' shoulders, feeling Cas' arm wrap around his waist as they walked through the alley toward the Roadhouse. "Some things deserve to be real, ya know? Your first driver's license, this. I know it kinda puts us in the system, but we can have Ash fix that later if we want. For once, I want it to be legit. Real."

Cas nodded, kissing him.

They joined their group at a large table, Ellen bringing them sodas. Dean snagged Ellen's hand, holding her from leaving the table. "Hang on, Ellen, I have an announcement to make."

She glanced at Bobby, who shrugged, just as confused. Everyone quieted down.

Dean stood up, looking around the table. This was his family. Bobby, Ellen, Sam, Gabe, Charlie, Ash, and Cas.

"Cas and I are getting married. Today. Or tomorrow."

Bobby's mouth popped open, eyes wide and Ellen stepped back, covering her instant smile, her eyes watering. A cheer erupted and the pair were enveloped in hugs.

"Why the rush?" Ellen grinned, no judgement in the question.

Dean shrugged.

"What would we be waiting for?" Cas asked, looking at Dean. "We want to be, so, why wait?"

Ellen hugged them both again and kissed them on top of their heads. "Well, let me know as soon as you know! We'll have a round on the house! And don't even THINK about sayin' any vows without me being there!" She threatened.

"We won't," Dean laughed. "We'll spread the word. Any of you can come."

Lunch was loud and boisterous. The frustration of the box was forgotten for an hour while they all talked.

Cas and Dean went to the Register of Deeds office after lunch and signed their application. To Dean's surprise, it was all processed there on the spot. They walked out with a license and had an appointment for 6:30 with the Justice of the Peace.

They took another hour to go shopping, Dean with Jo and Cas with Gabe. Ellen and Bobby busied themselves throwing together an after party and Keeper's Cross closed down early to the Clouds. The record shop, electronics shop, book shop, and thrift shop all had lights out with closed signs on their doors, professing a water main break.

At 6:15, the JP's waiting room was full of Keepers. Jody even joined the crowd. Dean had on a nice black suit with a green tie. Castiel wore black as well, with a blue tie. When Judge Hendrickson opened his door, his brow furrowed, seeing the small room so full. "Winchester, Novak?"

Dean stood, taking Cas by the hand. "That's us. And our witnesses."

Hendrickson smirked and said to follow him. The small crowd moved through the narrow hall into the Judge's chamber. It was a nice room with office space, a large table, and in the corner, a semi-chapel area. He pulled his judge's robe on and cleared his throat, reading through several questions they both agreed to.

"Do you have rings?" Hendrickson asked, pausing.

"We do," Bobby said, bringing two rings forward, standing with the two men. "These rings were worn by two very special people. Back when things were just getting started around here," he eyed both men meaningfully, Dean knowing he meant the original Keepers, "they wore rings as a sign of family and brotherhood. These were worn by two great settlers who fought hard to bring peace to this new country. You two deserve the right to wear them again. You are bringing together two families that were apart too long."

He placed a ring in each palm, Dean looking at the silver circle. It had a wide band with two arrows crossing. It was a Keeper's cross and it warmed Dean inside to have such a link to his heritage.

Hendrickson proceeded, the men exchanging simple vows and sliding their matching rings onto one another's fingers.

"By the state of South Dakota, I pronounce you legally wed. You may kiss as a sign of this union," Hendrickson proclaimed with a grin. He did not know these people all that well, but the love and joy in the air was contagious.

"I love you," Dean said, cupping Cas' face in his hands.

"I love you," Cas grinned. They kissed and everyone cheered.

"I give you Mr and Mr. Winchester," Hendrickson boomed, the crowd cheering louder.

"Now quit crowding up my office," Hendrickson laughed, slapping each man on the back. They filed out, jumping into cars and heading for the Roadhouse. The door said "Closed for family event" and everyone who did not witness the ceremony was there to greet them with food and drinks.

"I can't believe I'm going to bed tonight as a married man," Cas laughed, tossing back another shot.

Charlie laughed and hugged him for the tenth time that night. "It's so romantic! So whirlwind romance!"

Dean slung an arm over his shoulder and kissed his temple. Bobby joined the group. "I'm proud of you boys," he said, a gleam in his eye.

"Thanks Bobby," Dean said, hugging him tight. "And thanks for the rings. They are really cool."

Bobby nodded. "I've had 'em a long time. Came with all the other shit I inherited. Keepers wore them to be able to spot each other. Kinda went out of style years ago and they didn't want the risk of an Angel knowing who they were if caught wearing one. Their silver and have several blessings on them for protection. The arrows symbolize the Hunters, the cross making them Keepers."

"I love it, Bobby," Cas grinned, turning his and admiring it.

"Good. And I'm real proud to have you in the family, Castiel. Real proud."

Cas' eyes lifted to Bobby's with his mouth open slightly. "Thank you, Bobby."

"Yer family, kid," Bobby shrugged.

Cas launched a hug onto Bobby that made the older man stagger back a step and Dean laughed.

Cas kissed Bobby on the cheek and Bobby swatted him away, laughing.

It was a good evening. Dean could not have planned a better reception or wedding had he tried. It was fast and messy, like damn near everything else in his life and it fit him.

Cas was laughing at a story Sam and Ash were telling when his eyes drifted over to catch Dean's.

Dean's grin softened. While he loved his friends and family for throwing this party together, he was ready to go. He stood from the table he was now sitting at and put an arm around Cas' shoulders, his mouth dropping to his ear.

"I'm ready to go," he murmured.

Cas nodded, standing.

"Folks!" Dean yelled. "Thank you for everything! It's that time of night, and I'm taking my spouse home!"

The crowd cheered, clapped and hugged them out the door.

The cold night air was refreshing after several hours in the bar. They huddled together and walked back to the apartment quickly. Once the alley door was open, the pair let all their restraint go. Cas had Dean against the wall in a second flat, kicking the door shut. It took them twelve minutes to make it up the stairs, jackets and belts left in a trail.

"Keys," Cas panted.

"In the jacket," Dean laughed, pointing at his coat that was strewn down three steps.

Cas giggled, retrieving the jacket and digging for the keys. He grabbed a belt that was only another step down and shoved both into Dean's arms, unlocking the door and tossing the keys inside. He turned, eyes full of mischief and hunger.

"What?" Dean grinned.

Cas stepped aside quickly, grabbing Dean and lifting him off his feet.

"Cas! Don't be ridiculous!"

"I like being ridiculous!" He grinned wide, leaning over the mound of jacket in Dean's arms and kissing him as they stepped over the threshold, hitting Dean's feet off the door frame. The pair laughed and Cas dropped Dean to his feet. "Welcome home, Mr. Winchester."

Dean tossed the pile onto the floor and pinned Cas to the door as he kicked it shut. "Welcome home, Mr. Winchester," he repeated back to his husband, kissing him until Cas moaned.

Cas locked the door and pinned Dean to the floor in a starving frenzy. He had him stripped of clothing in minutes.

Dean managed to muscle his way over Cas, stripping him the same way, hurried and hungry. Only when the pair was fully stripped, did they move further into the apartment. They stopped on the couch briefly and had a hot moment outside the bedroom door before Dean scooped Cas off his feet and carried him into the bedroom


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 Everybody Loves Poughkeepsie

Castiel slipped a comic book in between two heavy reference books, sliding all three into a bag. He turned back to the register with a smile. Mrs. Tran paid the bill and kept talking on her phone. She was all-business. Kevin and Cas exchanged a secret grin, Kevin thanking him for sneaking in the comic book.

"Mrs. Tran," Cas said, her looking up quickly from her phone.

"Yes?"

"Sam has been talking about getting some extra help running the store lately. If you think it appropriate, Kevin could apply. I think he would do well here."

"Oh!" She grinned, "That would be great! Earn some money and it would look good on your college transcript!"

Kevin nodded, probably seeing it for what Castiel was offering. Some semi-free time from his mom.

"Do you have an application?" Kevin asked.

Castiel pulled one of the drawers open and slid it into the bag with the books.

They said their good-byes and left.

"Hey, Cassie!" Gabriel hollered, passing the Trans as he entered the bookstore.

"I just gave Kevin a job application."

"Oh good. That poor kid needs some breathing room from tiger-mama."

"I thought the same," Castiel said mildly as he gathered his things and headed for the door.

"Thanks for filling in," Gabriel smiled, patting him on the back.

"Anytime. Sam's still on the phone downstairs with someone named Garth." Gabriel gave him a thumbs up as he waved and stepped outside, the sun streaming bright and strong. It actually felt warm today. Certainly not the spring weather he was used to in Philadelphia, but still, he was thankful for the thawing warmth in the March air. He pulled the door open to Black Dog and found Dean scowling heavily at a piece of paper.

"I'm back," Castiel said, taking his coat off to hang behind the counter. It was a warm, tan coat that Dean had picked up for him when they were shopping one day. He had complained about his 'creeper coat' enough that Cas wore the new one. After all, it was warmer. But come warmer weather, he would wear the trench coat again. Dean could just get over it. Besides, Castiel had to admit, he liked when Dean got all worked up about small details. Just the thought made him grin a little.

"Cas," Dean said quietly. "Can you read this?"

Castiel took the paper in his hand. Immediately upon looking at it, he recognized the script. The curious lean to the ending letters. It was the same handwriting as on the Dybbuk box. "Where did you get this?"

"It came in the mail. Return address says it's from 1 Tale Lane, Poughkeepsie, New York."

Dean handed Castiel the envelope. Castiel read over it. It was not addressed to Dean by name. Just the address of the shop.

"What's the note say, Cas?"

Castiel laid the envelope down and picked up the paper again. "It's the same thing that was written on the box. Plus this last line: Keep safe my brother."

The pair exchanged a lost look. "What the hell, man!" Dean said.

Castiel scowled harder at the envelope. When his eyebrows raised, Dean thought he might have to smack the man to get him to share with the class.

"Do me a favor," Castiel said, clearing his throat and pulling a business envelope from under the counter. "Address this to Black Dog."

"What?" Dean spat, his frustration and irritation written all over his face.

"Just do it, I'll explain later."

Dean huffed and addressed the envelope, sliding it over to Castiel. He compared the two. "I'm no expert on writing analysis, Dean, but this would seem to be your own handwriting."

Dean looked at the pair of envelopes. "What? No." His eyes moved back and forth and his scowl deepened. "I did not write that." He took the envelopes, looking again. "That's impossible!"

"I knew it looked familiar," Castiel explained, although still thoroughly confused.

"Cas. I never wrote this," Dean swore, putting the envelopes on the counter and stepping back.

"I think we better call Bobby."

Dean looked at the envelopes as if they were snarling at him. "Whatever. It wasn't me."

Castiel called and Bobby walked in five minutes later.

"Would you compare the handwriting on these two envelopes, please?" Castiel said, hinting at nothing.

"Yeah. Looks the same," Bobby said, looking up.

"Would you feel certain they were written by the same person?" Castiel pressed.

Bobby studied the envelopes again. "Yes." He laid them down, looking between the two. "Why?"

"Because this envelope," Castiel said, handing Bobby the opened one, "came today with this in it." He handed the note over.

Bobby scowled, reading the letter. "This is what's written on the box," Bobby mumbled. "Keep my brother safe?" Bobby read aloud.

"Yes," Castiel nodded. "Keep safe my brother."

Bobby frowned. "So there's somebody in that box for sure." He re-read the note and envelope again. "Poughkeepsie."

Dean took a step back from the counter, his face pale.

"So what came in this envelope?" Bobby said, sliding the newer envelope forward.

"Nothing. Dean wrote that."

Bobby frowned hard, looking at the pair again.

"Bobby, I can barely read that shit, let alone not remember writing it! I didn't write it!"

Bobby looked up at Dean, deep in thought. "Could be somebody else. Could be somebody else imitating you. Or it coulda been you."

"Dude!" Dean shoved both hands into his hair, "I did not write that!"

"Alright, alright," Bobby placated, holding a hand up to calm Dean down.

Dean pulled out his phone, pacing away. "Sam? Come over to the shop."

A moment later, Sam came through the front door, walking quickly and looking nervous. "Dean, is everything okay?"

Dean barely restrained himself from hugging Sam. "I just needed to see you. In the flesh."

Sam gave him a skeptical look.

Dean bit his lip, still looking worried. "Can you two watch the store for a few minutes? I need to talk to Sam."

Bobby and Castiel exchanged worried scowls. "Of course," Castiel agreed. Dean and Sam headed for the weapon shop, neither saying a word. Castiel looked back to Bobby.

"Why would Dean write this?" Bobby asked.

Castiel shrugged. "He seems adamant that it was not him that did it. He could be right. Here is my other concern." Castiel pulled the note out again, sliding it to Bobby. "Has Dean ever written Hebrew?"

"No. Not really. I mean, maybe a little when I was teaching him how to read it."

"Would you have anything he wrote?" Castiel pressed. He did not want to say anything out loud. If Dean's writing matched the carving on the box, it could mean that Dean carved it. Why he would not remember doing this or why he would lie about having done it still seemed impossible to Castiel.

"I can go look," Bobby said. "This just don't make sense!" Bobby hissed suddenly. "I know Dean. He ain't a liar. Not about this kinda thing."

Castiel looked down guiltily. "He seems equally confused and horrified with the thoughts." He would not say either guess out loud. "Maybe it has nothing to do with Dean and I jumped to conclusion about the writing style."

"Maybe," Bobby grumbled. "But I'm tellin' you, the minute you gave me the box, I ain't been comfortable with it. I feel worried and stressed about it. I want to let it out. I feel certain it was wrongly imprisoned." Bobby took a deep breath, adjusting his ball cap and blowing a breath out, looking toward the back door. "But I'm not touching it without proof. It's too risky."

Bobby's stare at the back door narrowed. "And what the hell are they camping up about down there?"

Castiel followed his gaze. The closed door made him nervous. What was Dean hiding from him? And why?

A group of Clouds came in. Bobby paced away from the register, glancing through the used vinyl. Castiel slid the envelopes and letters under the counter. Worry twisted in his insides. Maybe Dean was in some kind of trouble and was afraid to trust him.

Dean thumped down the steps quickly, unlocking the weapon shop and going in. Sam followed, Dean locking the door behind him.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, brow worried.

"I don't know," Dean snapped. He wiped sweat off his forehead with one hand and paced around the large table in the center of the room. "Somethin' really weird is going on."

Sam planted both palms on the table, following Dean with his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"The Dybbuk box," Dean said, stopping across from Sam at the table. He felt sweaty, nervous and guilty for no reason. "I got a note today. From the same person who carved the letters into the box. It said the same prayers and labels that were on the box plus a new line. Keep safe my brother."

"My brother?" Sam wondered aloud.

"Sam," Dean was trying to go slow enough that Sam got the details, but he wanted to spill it all at the same time. "The letter came from Poughkeepsie."

Sam flinched nervously. "Again?"

"The envelope looks like it was addressed by me."

Sam's face clouded into uncertainty. "What?"

"I know!" Dean snapped, pacing again. "Sam, I swear to God I never carved that box. But it sure as hell looks like my writing. But I can't ignore this anymore! The friggin' mail keeps coming from Poughkeepsie, the writing looks like mine on the envelope, and it says to keep my brother safe." He stopped pacing, both brothers staring at each other with worried frustration.

"You're right. It seems way too...us. What the hell?"

"I don't know!" Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "That box was mailed and delivered from Poughkeepsie before you and I told Cas and Gabe. Before we let them in on it, NO ONE knew that code."

Sam nodded emphatically. "I've never told anyone. Ever. Until Gabe."

"So why are we getting this message. It's too freakin' cryptic and obviously has to do with me and you. Me and you not trusting someone near us. Oh, and yeah, I got no fucking memory of ever having anything to do with this whole situation!"

"Me either," Sam agreed.

"But we can't ignore this, right?" Dean said, pacing.

"No. Either this is weirdly circumstantial, or this is clearly a message to one of us from one of us."

Sam began pacing his side of the table. "Why a Dybbuk box?" Sam muttered.

"No friggin' clue." Dean did not want to say what he was about to say. "Sam, we gotta figure this shit out. You and me. Not Cas. Not Gabe. Not Bobby. Us."

Sam frowned. "How do we not do that? Gabe can be pretty prying when he's curious about something. And Bobby knows something is up."

"Damnit," Dean hit the counter behind him.

"It's just a word, Dean."

"It's a word that means someone is betraying us, get out. I'm havin' a hard time not grabbin' our shit and clearing outta here. Someone near us is betraying us. You know I'm right. It's not just a word."

Sam sighed in frustration. "You're right." Silence stretched between them. "So what the hell do we do. I know in my heart that Gabriel has nothing to do with this."

"Yeah, I feel the same way about Cas. But someone near to us would have had to betray us."

"Not that we remember it," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

"So...what do we do?" Dean asked.

Sam planted his hands on the wide, white table again, hanging his head in thought. "Guess we should...I don't know. Fuck."

Dean frowned in similar frustration. They paced and thought and Dean really wished he could stare at the highway in front of him through Baby's windshield. It seriously helped him think.

"For starters," Dean sighed, let's do the drill."

"Seriously?" Sam bitchfaced.

After receiving a dead serious look from Dean, Sam took a silver knife, putting the silver blade against his forearm. He then took a swig of holy water.

Dean came around the table and did the same.

"You sure you didn't write the envelope?" Sam asked.

"I know I never saw that note before. Never addressed an envelope to the shop. It wasn't me."

"Do you even know how to make a Dybbuk box?" Sam asked.

"I mean...I guess I could figure it out. Never took the time to study it though. You?"

"No."

"The longer we hang out down here, the more questions we will have to answer," Dean complained.

"So...we gotta figure out if the Poughkeepsie thing is coincidence or us. What if you were under a spell or something and don't remember doing it?" Sam asked.

"That's pretty weak," Dean shook his head.

"I know," Sam sighed.

"Guess we could go see Pamela," Dean shrugged.

"Alright. At least it's something." Sam said, heading back up the steps, Dean following.

Back in the shop, Castiel was waiting on three Clouds at the register. Bobby was flipping through a row of CD's, giving them a curious look as they walked in.

"Thank you and come again," Cas smiled.

"We will," the guy paying grinned. Dean noticed the young guy was blushing a bit. Dean smirked because Cas was ever clueless that someone was interested in him.

As the door chimed, marking their departure, Bobby joined them at the register. "What was that all about?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Sam and I just put our heads together real hard and can't come up with any time that I would have written the envelope. So we came up with a plan to go see Pamela."

Bobby nodded.

"Who's Pamela?" Cas asked.

"She's a Watcher. A psychic. She may be able to dig into Dean's subconscious to see if he did any of this."

"Where is she located?" Cas asked.

"Couple towns down I29. South of here," Dean grinned. "Think you could watch the shop for me if I go tomorrow, Cas?"

"I suppose," Cas said slowly. "You don't want me to come along?"

Dean smirked, "Course I want you to come along. I just thought you might like running the show here for a couple hours so I can get this done."

Cas nodded. "Of course. I will be fine running the shop."

"I know you will," Dean grinned, kissing his temple. "I trust you."

"I'll go along." Sam offered, "Pamela has an order in with my shop and I can deliver it and take notes of what gets said. Dean might be kinda spent after going through that."

"Sounds like a plan. At least it's something," Bobby muttered.

Castiel ran the shop all day the next day. Dean and Sam left around nine in the morning and Sam did not text until almost dinner time. He had said Dean was exhausted, he was driving back while Dean slept and he did not have much to share.

Castiel had filled two downstairs orders, one online and one from a Hunter that walked in. The Black Dog had sold several items as well. It was a slow day that ticked by. He had the feeling Dean was hiding something. Or maybe he was feeling paranoid about Dean's part in the Dybbuk situation. The longer it took for the brothers to return, the more worried and frustrated he became.

At 7:15, Dean and Sam finally came through the back door. Dean looked slightly pale and tired.

"Dean!" Castiel said, rushing back the isle to see him.

"Hey," he said, hugging Castiel warmly. "Missed you today."

"Me too." Feeling Dean's solid embrace and hearing those words put a damper on Cas' frustrations. "Are you alright?"

Dean released the hug, but hung his head on Castiel's shoulder. "My head hurts like a son of a bitch and I'm tired."

"I should have gone along!" Castiel said, pulling Dean against him for more stability to the obviously weak man.

"No," Sam grimaced. "It's good you didn't. You would have hated it."

"Why?" Castiel asked, worried.

"Because," Sam said, shoving his hands in his pockets, "she dug and dug and dug and dug. Dean never addressed that envelope. He never wrote that note. He never made the box and knows nothing about any of it. Pamela tried for a long time."

Castiel held Dean all the tighter. "Yes. I would have hated that. Was all that really necessary?"

"We had to be sure. She dug around in me too, but found nothing. She seemed a bit off with me though."

"How so?" Castiel asked, walking Dean over to one of the chairs in his guitar corner.

"She kept saying I felt of two mind sets about things. She checked out the box too. She couldn't figure out anything about who was in it. She didn't poke around too hard though. Apparently Dybbuk boxes can be unhexed pretty easily. She wasn't willing to risk letting it out."

"So, we learned nothing," Castiel gritted.

"We learned that Dean has nothing to do with this. And that the box is not easily read. It wasn't all for nothing Cas. It's good to know Dean and I have nothing to do with this. We come across crazy shit on hunts. Mind altering times when hunting djinn or witches. I know Dean felt relieved."

"Yeah," Castiel relented. "I suppose you are right."

"I'll lock up early," Sam offered. "Take him upstairs." Sam knelt down in front of Dean's lolling head, waking him up. "I'll talk to Bobby and Gabe and lock up shop for you two. Go to bed."

"Kay," Dean slurred, getting to his feet.

Castiel thanked Sam and helped Dean get up to their apartment.

He practically carried him into the bedroom, sitting him on the bed. He slumped but remained upright when Castiel stepped back. Dean began pulling off his coat, then flannel, then his t-shirt. He kicked off his boots and sighed heavily.

"Come on," Castiel said gently, pulling him to his feet. He helped Dean unbuckle his belt.

"Pam had lots to say about you," Dean grinned sleepily.

"Oh? Like what?" Castiel asked, unbuttoning and pulling Dean's zipper down. As he did this he looked up into Dean's eyes that were brilliant green with deep brown striations. Flecks of gold reflected and Castiel could not help but grin.

"She says you're too hot for me. Too good for me. Generally, you down graded."

"Dean!" Castiel scoffed, "Pamela sounds like a terrible person."

"Nah, I exaggerate a little. But she did say you were 'fucking hot'."

Castiel frowned. "She sounds opinionated and unprofessional."

Dean chuckled, he ran one hand through Castiel's hair and cupped his hand around the back of his neck. "She said my thoughts were heavy with you."

"What does that mean?" Castiel asked defensively.

"It means," Dean grinned and kissed him, "that you are a huge part of my life. That I think of you all the time." Dean hugged him close.

"Aw," Castiel grinned. "I love you."

"Love you too," Dean sighed, hanging on Castiel a bit heavier.

"Time for bed, baby," Castiel chuckled.

Dean undressed the rest of the way and slid under the blankets.

"Come lay with me," Dean murmured.

Castiel smiled down at Dean, "Alright," he sighed. It was only 8:30 at night, but he could refuse his husband nothing.

"What was it like?" Castiel asked, pulling Dean onto his chest, Dean pliant and warm.

"Was like dreaming. Only Pam was there, yanking me from place to place. She's pushy. So pushy."

"Mm," Castiel thought Pamela was surely someone he did not like. Dean's head belonged only to Dean. With bits for Castiel. To know some woman was poking and prodding made him angrier by the minute. Pamela. He pictured a woman that was also a diner waitress. Poofy blonde hair in big curls. A harlet. A fraud.

"She said to tell you to call Anna, whoever that is," Dean murmured.

Hearing Anna's name made a chill run down Castiel's spine. He had never talked about his sister Anna. They had been close when they were young. But Castiel had kept so much to himself that even he and Anna had drifted apart. How could this Pamela know anything about that?

He lowered his chin, about to ask Dean more about Pamela, but realized Dean was already asleep. He ran his hand through Dean's short, silky hair again and kissed his forehead gently. After what seemed like a long time, he eased his way out of bed and quietly went into the living room. He pulled out his cell phone. Not the one he used every day. His old one, which he kept in an end table drawer. He had to plug it in so it would charge. He no longer had service to the phone, but there were a lot of phone numbers on it that he kept, just in case. Anna's was one of them. Why should he call her? What good would it do to stay in contact with her? He had not spoken to any of his family he had left behind since Michael walked out of the restaurant from their meeting. It made him nervous. Rather than stew on it, he busied himself by pulling out the envelope that Dean had pulled out of his hiding place in the closet of his bedroom in his old home. They had been through the contents together a few days after they were married. There were a stack of pictures from his life before Dean. Money he had hidden away over time. Mementos of things he had done or places he had been. He carded through the pictures, finding one of him, Anna and Gabriel. They were dressed in suits and a gown, getting ready for a formal dinner party. Castiel looked relaxed, Gabriel smiled, but his eyes were cold, and Anna looked skeptical. It made Castiel laugh. Although he looked relaxed in the photo, he clearly remembered how uncomfortable he had been that evening. While suits were fine for short periods of time, it was a long, drawn-out evening full of bullshit speeches and preachy sermons. He opened the cabinet door and pulled out the box Dean had also grabbed several other momentos from his closet: blue tie, a bottle cap, several rocks, three postcards from Gabriel, a small stuffed dog, and finally, what he had been searching for. A worn and frayed pack of papers folded and creased. Castiel delicately unfolded the papers. 'A Rainy Night in Phili' entitled the top. Castiel smiled. It was a play written and performed by Anna, Castiel, Gabriel and Inais. Castiel read over the beginning scene. He was thirteen when they worked on this. At the time, Castiel would have done anything to be near Inais. His first crush. They were not related by blood and his dark hair and dark eyes had gotten Castiel through many a lonely night. Only in his deepest, darkest inner secret world in his mind. But every 'accidental touch' lit Castiel on fire inside. He laughed at the corny writing and weak plot. They had worked tirelessly on their project, performing it for the younger children. None of the adults or older teens appreciated the 'frivolous waste of time', making them end their project after only one show. A year later, Inais was killed while fighting a demon. Castiel had never allowed his true feelings to show. Inais never knew. Maybe it was for the best, so neither of them had to deal with scrutiny. Cas never had to hear a panicked rejection either. But he could not help feeling like he had robbed them both of their first...something. Crush, perhaps. Gabriel had kept Castiel hidden from most of the others at Inais' funeral. The look of shock on Gabriel's face when he glanced at him and saw tears streaming down his face gave something away. Gabriel had told him later that it was the first time he had any clue that Cas might be gay. Nothing had ever made Cas cry before that. And the look of loss was deeper than what their cold-hearted family would normally portray.

Castiel flipped through several pages to a scene of him and Anna. They had laughed until their sides hurt when they wrote it. He loved Anna. She was his sister and truly one of his best friends. It was true he missed her. But her faith had always seemed devout. He could not help but worry she would be full of condemnation for him. The thought made him weak in the knees and sick to his stomach.

He checked his old phone and saw it was lit up enough to find Anna's number. He scrolled down to it and stared at the number.

He quickly clicked the phone off, resting it against his forehead in frustration with himself.

He sat the phone down and put his old memories away. He stripped as he walked back to the bedroom, crawling in bed with his husband. He held Dean's sleeping form tight in his arms. Moments like these were difficult. He wanted to hide from his past. But he set his jaw, holding Dean tighter. He would brave things tomorrow. For now, he had heaven to enjoy. Awake, asleep, in the midst of passion, this bed was his sanctuary. Their sanctuary. He nestled his head into the back of Dean's neck, feeling him squeeze his arm. Castiel squeezed back gently and let his eyes drift shut.

People had been in and out of the shop all morning and the afternoon was fairly busy as well. The church a block down Powder House Road was hosting a huge craft show and the traffic of shoppers was keeping all the Keepers busy. The sunny but chilly weather had people out as well.

Dean sighed when he glanced at the clock. 2:30. And it was Thursday. So he had to work all night. He needed some coffee.

Cas came up from the weapons shop and leaned toward Dean over the counter. "We need to order more silver blades."

Dean nodded and shot a quick email to Bela. She responded a minute later. "Looks like it'll be two weeks until I can pick any up from her. She's still in the New England states somewhere."

Cas had come around the counter and was looking up a CD on the store computer. "Are we getting any more used vinyl?"

"As a matter of fact," Dean grinned, "I have some plans for that."

Cas, having found whatever he was looking up, looked at Dean with a raised eyebrow.

"Flea market in Norfolk, Nebraska. It's gonna be an overnight trip," he grinned crookedly and winked.

"Am I going?" Cas smirked.

"I hope so. I'm planning on booking a suite."

Cas grinned, looking back at the computer screen. "I'm in."

Dean laughed. "We can work out the finer details later."

Cas shook his head, unwilling to rise to Dean's dirty bait. "I gotta go," his voice more gravely than it was the moment before.

"Finishing the feather thing?" Dean asked, still smirking.

"Yes." Cas stepped around him and stopped on his other side. "See you later."

Cas hesitated and Dean could tell he wanted to kiss him. Dean quickly snagged his jacket sleeve and kissed him. "Quit being shy. This is my shop. If people don't like it, they can leave."

Cas grinned and kissed him again, leaving quickly. They had been married for three months now. Dean could tell that Keeper's Cross was feeling more like home to both Cas and Gabe.

Things had been so good. They worked in the shop, talked to Hunters, made weapon runs. Yeah, life was good. The only tiny, gnawing flaw between him and his husband was the never-answered mystery of the Dybbuk box. It had stressed Bobby out to the point that he could not keep it at his house any more. Dean and Cas did not seem to have a problem with it, so it sat in a cabinet downstairs. Poughkeepsie had been searched, Sam and Dean had racked their brains, but there were no more leads. Unwilling to make a mistake with it, they just kept it.

Castiel unlocked the last shop on Madison Street. It was still under reconstruction inside, gearing up to become Gabriel's coffee shop and bakery. A beautifully carved wooden sign was being hung up on the front of the store. Castiel shook his head at the black lettering that read, 'Brew You' on a red background. Only Gabriel would name a business something so crass. Of course Dean thought it was hilarious. He dodged around the workers and pulled the front door open. Castiel walked past the counter covered in paint cloths and stacked furniture. It was dusty with drywall dust and smelled like new flooring. He left shoe prints as he went through to the kitchen where machinery sat all in a corner waiting to be installed. Gabriel was really excited to start his new shop. Castiel had helped him perfect several cake recipes and muffin recipes. His favorite was perfecting the coffee recipes though. Just the thought made him wish he had a hot cup right now. He went through the back door and descended the stairs and unlocked the downstairs room. The 'holding cell' had been improved upon, now able to contain demons, in case they needed to question any. The medical room had been cleared and relocated with a lot of updates to one of the apartments.

Castiel and Bobby had spent the last several days cleaning out the room and mounting a large United States map on the floor. They had to order a horse-hair rope to suspend the feather from, which one of their hunters had just delivered yesterday. They had a ridiculous collection of maps that could narrow down the search to cities. Castiel had called Michael several times in the past week to consult with him, since they were setting up a similar contraption in Philadelphia. The thick rope was mounted to the ceiling in a sigil formation. Where the sigil would normally stop, the rope hung down, awaiting the feather to be attached. He groaned at the thought of calling Michael today. Today was to be their first trial run.

"Whatcha grumblin' bout over there?" Bobby asked, coming in the room.

Castiel's shoulders slumped as he turned to the older man. "Calling Michael."

"Yeah. He's such a ray of sunshine, ain't he?" Bobby grinned.

Castiel rolled his eyes. The difference between Hunter/Keeper and the Angels was like night and day. The Angels were strict, proper, and uptight. The Keepers and Hunters were loose, harsh and 'got shit done'. Castiel preferred his new company ten fold more than the confine of the Divine Loraine. He had walked the posh hallways with a constant nervous weight on his shoulders for many years. The freedom of the Keeper's Cross was quaint, small town America. Open air, small shops, friendly faces. There was no guessing about how people felt about you or what they said about you. The Hunters breed were brutally honest and yet incredibly accepting. Castiel sighed, thankful for his turn of events that had led him here.

"I'm ready," Castiel said, pulling his phone out.

Bobby nodded, attaching the feather to the end of the rope. It dangled above the middle of their huge map. "Put Mr. Personality on speaker."

Castiel dialed the number and hit speaker, laying the phone on a map stand.

"Hello, Castiel."

"Hello, Michael."

"We're ready when you are," Bobby said.

"We are ready as well."

"Alright," Bobby sighed, "Let's see what this feather can do."

Bobby lowered the feather, reading the last part of the spell and adding the final ingredient, demon blood, which he then painted the mixture onto the feather.

"The feather is trembling," Michael said quietly.

"Ours is as well," Castiel said, watching the feather vibrate. It started spiraling slowly from a tiny swirl to a full circle.

"Ours is circling the map now," Castiel added.

"Yes. Ours too."

For several moments, they watched as the feather circled. Just as Bobby started scowling at the thing, it began winding into a smaller circle.

It froze suddenly, the tip pointing to one spot. It made the hair on Castiel's arms stand on end. "It has detected a location."

Bobby knelt down, looking closer. "Flagstaff, Arizona."

"Camden, South Carolina," Michael announced. "The spell is working!"

The feather began spiraling again. "Ours is moving again."

Bobby opened a blank journal noting the date, time, and location of where the feather had pointed.

"It stopped again," Castiel said, "on San Diego, California." Bobby wrote it down.

"Washington D.C.," Michael added.

The feather revolved between six locations, four on the Hunter side of the Mississippi and two on the Angel side. The rotation went from closest to furthest. Michael's end was the same.

"We will speak again tomorrow," Michael said. "We shall see how things progress."

"Sounds good. Safe hunting," Bobby said, clicking the end button.

"I gotta go get Hunters on these demons."

Castiel nodded. The feather continued the pattern over and over. He called Charlie.

"Hey, Cas!"

"Are you seeing this?"

"Yepper. Kinda creepy."

"I would have to agree," Castiel grinned. Charlie and Ash would keep video surveillance of the feather for instant updates. He locked the room, leaving the light on. "So the camera angle is good?"

"It's good. And I can zoom in to see the specifics."

"Perfect."

"See you later. I'll keep watching."

"Alright."

Cas hung up the call and went up the stairs and back through the shop behind Bobby. They locked the outside door and Bobby headed home to set up Hunters for each of the four demons.

Castiel headed back to Black Dog. He had been looking forward to his and Dean's three month anniversary this weekend. The time had flown by and Castiel could easily say the last five months had been the best of his life. Their trip to the flea market would be great.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12. Pocket Full of Sunshine

Hefting the final crate of records out of the back of the Impala, Dean elbowed the back door closed. Their trip to the flea market had been frickin' perfect. They spent hours combing through albums and he got great deals on them. Six crates worth and plenty to keep his Used Vinyl section full for awhile. The suite he had splurged on had given them two nights away in a bit of luxury. They had made plenty of good memories. Enough that any time someone said 'Nebraska' they would both be grinning.

Cas came out the back door, holding it open for him. "Is that the last one?"

"Yep," Dean grinned.

"I put them in the storage room until we decide what to put out and get them all scanned into the computer."

"Good." Dean sat the last crate down gently and stood up to stretch his back.

"Jo said she doesn't mind working a few more hours until close."

"Awesome," Dean grinned. He was craving a little time to just sit back and relax.

They walked back to the front of the store where Jo sat at the counter reading a Rolling Stone.

"Hey, Dean."

"Hey, Jo. Thanks for staying. I'm just gonna grab my bag out of the car and take it upstairs. Want to hit up Ellen's for dinner?" He said, turning to Cas.

"Yeah, sounds good." Cas followed him.

Jo smirked at the pair of love birds as they left. She closed the magazine and put it back in the rack, but missed, the magazine sliding down to the floor. She groaned and came around the counter, picking it up and putting it back in the rack. The store was empty and she thought about changing the candy around, knowing how OCD Dean could be. It would drive him crazy and he would have to fix it. Before she could move even one gum pack, the front door chimed and she turned around. She stifled her greeting and scowled in slight confusion. "I thought you were going to Mom's."

Dean stood just inside the shop door. His face paled and he covered his mouth with one hand. If she didn't know any better, Dean Winchester was going to cry.

"What?" She demanded.

He dropped his hand and bit his lip. "Hey, Jo." His deep voice was more gritty than usual.

She gave him a look like he had just lost his mind, because...hello?

The door chimed again and Cas walked in wearing a tan trench coat and a suit. The only thing predictably the same was that his tie was screwed up.

"Is that?" Cas said quietly.

"Yeah," Dean pressed his lips together.

"What the hell are you two nuts doing?" She asked.

"Uh," Dean swallowed. "Jo, when was the last time you saw me?"

Jo pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, dialing Sam. It wasn't until she saw the trench coat that she realized Dean and Cas were wearing different clothes than they were two minutes ago. Dean had been wearing a red plaid flannel. Now he was wearing a blue plaid flannel. Cas had been wearing jeans and a black and blue flannel. Definitely not a suit.

Sam answered.

"Black Dog. Right the hell now."

She hung up.

"I just saw you a few minutes ago."

"Shit," Dean said, glancing at Cas.

Cas glanced around.

"What the hell is going on?" Jo demanded.

The door opened again, Sam and Gabe rushing in and stopping as Cas and Dean backed up a few steps to make room.

"Jo, what's going on?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure," she said.

Dean and Cas were looking at Sam and Gabe as if they hadn't seen them in years.

"Sammy," Dean said weakly.

"Gabriel?" Cas said, just as weak, eyes wide.

"Yeah?" The pair answered, looking at the other pair in confusion.

Cas put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Gabriel...I...it's so good to see you." He hugged Gabe tightly.

Gabe looked slightly confused but hugged him back. "Aw, Cassie, did you miss me that much? You two were only gone three days."

Dean was looking at Sam like he wanted to see something there, but didn't.

"Dean," Sam said, glancing at the hugging pair, Jo, then back to his brother, "is everything alright?"

"Yeah. No. Shit." Dean covered his mouth again. "I didn't think this was going to be so hard."

"I'm calling Bobby," Jo said, already dialing.

"Bobby's here?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Jo said, shaking her head. Dean was acting like a certifiable nut.

"Hello." Bobby said.

"Bobby, come down to Black Dog. Dean and Cas are here and something's wrong."

"Be right there."

Cas finally let his brother go.

"Castiel," Gabe said, obviously worried. "Are you crying? What's wrong?"

Cas cleared his throat and looked down at his shoes.

"We'll explain when Bobby gets here."

Jo eyed the pair curiously. She took a step toward Dean and he hitched a breath, trying not to look directly at her. "Hey, where's your wedding ring?" Jo asked, now looking at Cas. "Oh God. Did you two have some kind of crazy fight?"

"Wedding ring?" Dean asked. He huffed a laugh. "Fight with who?"

"Who?" Jo asked incredulously. "Your husband." She had her hands on her hips now. "I'm so fucking confused."

"Husband!" Dean stepped back, holding a hand up.

Sam stepped in front of Jo protectively. "You aren't Dean, are you." The brothers eyed each other. Dean neither denied nor confirmed. "Do the drill."

Dean nodded. He pulled a silver knife out of his jacket and pulled up his sleeve, cutting his arm. He handed it to Cas.

"I'm not-"

"Just do it, Cas," Dean said shortly, Cas rolling his eyes. He cut into his forearm as well, wiping the blade clean on his suit pants and handing it to Sam.

Dean took a bottle of holy water from Sam and promptly splashed Cas in the face. Cas gave Dean an unamused look and Dean smirked, then splashed himself. The pair wiped their faces off and Dean handed the bottle back to Sam.

"Got any turpentine?" Dean asked.

"For what?" Sam asked back, baffled.

"So you know we aren't Leviathan," Dean said, like Sam was an idiot.

"Leviathan? What are they?" Sam asked defensively.

"Oh, okay," Dean shrugged. "Never mind."

The door jingled and all four moved further into the store as Bobby, Ellen, Charlie, Ash, Chuck, Dean and Cas filed into the store.

Bobby flipped the closed sign on and locked the door.

"What the hell?" Dean said, eyeing himself up.

"Just take it easy," blue flannel Dean said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Cas?" Red flannel Dean was staring at the trench coat Cas, a slightly panicked look crossing his face as he reached over, his hand in an open, protective posture in front of Cas in the jeans.

"What the hell is going on here," Bobby demanded.

"I'm Dean," blue Dean said, "this is Cas. But we are here from a different...world."

Confused silence filled the room.

"Say again," Bobby growled.

"Gabe," blue Dean said, "back us up here."

Gabe looked lost.

Trench coat Cas stepped closer to blue Dean. "Gabriel is not an angel here. Neither is Castiel."

"We were Angels," Cas said, confused. "Who ARE you?"

"No," Trench coat Cas said, looking at him carefully, "you were never an angel."

"He has tattoos to prove it," red Dean defended.

"No," Trench coat Cas said firmly, with authority. "You are definitely human."

"Human?" All the Keepers repeated nervously.

Blue Dean sighed impatiently. "Okay, I'm gonna set this straight. Just...listen."

Red Dean stared incredulously as blue Dean gave him a 'calm-the -hell-down stare.

"Cas and I had to save my brother Sam from...a demon. Do you guys have demons?"

The Keepers all nodded.

"Okay, so a demon...look, the details aren't important, but we had to send a box here. Did you get a weird box?"

Red Dean and Sam exchanged a look.

Red Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah, couple months ago. Came from Poughkeepsie."

"Exactly," blue Dean looked relieved.

"Are you tellin me," Bobby stepped forward aggressively toward blue Dean, "Sam's soul is in that Dybbuk box?"

"Yeah."

"Son of a bitch," Bobby swore, looking away.

"Please tell me you still have it," trench coat Cas said.

"Course I have it. I knew somethin' was off with it."

"Wait," Sam said curiously, "so, if I die in your world, do I die here? Or visa versa?"

"No," blue Dean and trench coat Cas said firmly.

The Keepers all looked around. "But you do know all of us?" Sam clarified.

"Yes," the strange pair answered.

"Bobby," trench coat Cas said firmly, "we need the box."

Bobby narrowed his eyes, looking at the pair suspiciously. "To do what with, exactly."

"To save Sam," blue Dean said.

"In another world," Bobby added.

"Yes," blue Dean answered.

Bobby breathed out a long breath through his nose, his beard bristling. "Explain more."

Blue Dean stepped closer to him. "It was the only way. It was a Hail Mary move in a really messed up situation. Trust me, we're breaking a shit ton of rules just being here." Blue Dean turned to his Cas, "Are you sure Gabe isn't Gabe?"

"I'm sure."

"Hello!" Gabe threw his arms up. "I know I'm me! And I was an Angel. Now I'm a Hunter. Or Keeper. Whatever."

"What's a Keeper?" Blue Dean asked.

Now the Keepers looked at the pair even more suspiciously. "If you don't know what a Keeper is," red Dean scowled, "how the hell did you know where to mail Sam's soul?"

"I mailed it to Bobby," blue Dean said, his patience growing strained just like red Dean.

Red Dean glared maliciously at blue Dean. "You mean, you put my brother's SOUL in a box and mailed it to an address you HOPED was Bobby's in a world you don't know much about?!"

"Im tellin' ya," blue Dean snarled, trench coat Cas laying a restraining hand on his arm, "it was a crazy-ass plan in a-"

"Messed up situation," red Dean cut him off with a distrustful glare.

"It really was the only way," trench coat Cas said in his deep voice.

"Bullshit," red Dean crossed his arms. "My brother's soul is in a fucking box."

"No," blue Dean snapped, "MY brother's soul is in that fucking box! Your brother is right there! And Bobby! And Ellen!" His voice broke, all the anger draining from him as his eyes scanned the group and trench coat Cas grimaced with worry as he pulled blue flannel Dean back a step. "Sorry," blue Dean muttered.

"It's gonna be alright," trench coat Cas muttered back with an imploring look at Dean, who would not look him in the eye as he pulled himself together.

Bobby, red Dean and jeans Cas exchanged a worried look.

"And who am I to you? In your world?" Bobby asked.

"You're," blue Dean's voice cracked a little, "in my world my parents have been gone for awhile. Mom when I was four, Dad like 8 years ago."

"Same for Mom, but Dad just died last year," red Dean said quietly.

Blue Dean nodded, "Bobby was like a dad to us."

"Was?" Red Dean and Bobby repeated.

"Yeah. You died, Bobby, my Bobby died a few years back."

Bobby nodded. "Well, guess some things don't change much, cause these boys are like my own sons."

"Dean," trench coat Cas said gently, "don't forget the time gap. We are from 2017. Here, it is only 2009."

"Right," blue Dean nodded. "Look, I don't want to freak any one out any more than I already have. We should leave as soon as we can. Do you have the box?"

Silence filled the room. Ellen looked concerned, along with Chuck, Charlie and Jo.

"I guess Chuck is just a human?" Blue Dean asked quietly to his Cas.

"Yes."

Chuck gave a confused head tilt. "Was I a demon?"

"No," blue Dean smirked. "Trust me, it would only go to your head. You're better off just like you are."

"Are any of you in contact with angels?" Trench coat Cas asked.

"We are Angels, or were!" Gabe said, waving to himself and Cas.

"What does that mean?" Blue Dean asked.

"The Hunter group," red Dean answered, "The Angels. They're a gang of Hunters that think they, well they used to think they were better than us. Now we kinda work together."

"But they're human?" Blue Dean clarified carefully.

"Well they sure as hell aren't demons!" Red Dean snapped. "What else would they be?"

"Settle down freckles," blue Dean smirked, the pair exchanging bitchfaces at each other. "My Cas is a real angel. As in angel of the Lord that smites, kinda angel. The real deal."

All eyes went to trench coat Cas. Even jeans Cas looked awed. He stepped closer, their blue eyes meeting. Jeans Cas' were wide and curious, trench coat Cas' were guarded. "You've been to heaven?" Jeans Cas asked in awe.

"I have. It is..."

"Best not mess his head up too much there, Cas," blue Dean smiled.

"Wow," Jeans Cas mumbled. "And Gabriel?"

"Yes," trench coat Cas said, his eyes softening as they landed on Gabe again.

"So, I take it," Gabe said nonchalantly, "I don't make it to 2017 in your world."

"No," trench coat Cas said quietly.

"So...how'd I die? Wait! I was an archangel! Who kills them?"

"Lucifer," blue Dean answered.

"Lucifer's free in your world?"

"No...maybe," blue Dean said, looking to his Cas who shrugged.

"So, no one here works with angels?" Blue Dean asked. "The real ones?"

"No," Bobby said. "They left a few trinkets here that we use but no one has ever worked with real angels."

"Good," blue Dean said. "Keep it that way." Trench coat Cas gave him a scowl. "Not you, man," blue Dean rolled his eyes. "But when you showed up is when all hell broke loose."

"I wouldn't have had to show up if you weren't in hell," Trench coat Cas defended.

"Whoa!" Red Dean held a hand up. "Back the train up. I was in hell?"

"Not you," blue Dean scoffed. "Me. I was. Several times. And heaven. And purgatory. Jesus, just stay right here on Earth. Trust me, this is by far the best place to be."

Red Dean looked shocked and doubly curious of his other self.

"I know this is all fascinating," blue Dean griped, "but we really gotta be going. The longer we're here, the more likely something from our end will find us here. Sounds like you guys got it a little better here than where we're from. So...box?"

Bobby nodded. "Follow me."

Jo watched, still in shock, as the Deans, Cas's and Bobby headed to the back of the store.

As the door snapped shut behind them, she looked at her mom. "What the hell?"

Ellen put an arm around her, giving her a sturdy hug and kissed her on top of the head. "I don't know, Jo. There's a lot a bizarre shit out there. But this...this is so...confusing and..."

Jo hugged her mom back. It was disorienting and scary to see two Deans. Two Cas's. The fact that trench coat Cas said he was an angel, a real one, was mind blowing. But blue Dean did not seem to treat him much differently than red Dean treated their own Cas. It's not like he was worshiping him or on his knees in awe. And if Bobby was gone and...her mom, then having an angel by your side did not fix everything. In fact, the way he looked at her with that haunted look, made Jo wonder if she was around in his world. The gut twist in her stomach told her she was not.

"How do you get from one world to another?" Charlie asked.

Ash shrugged his shoulders. "Angels, maybe?"

"Huh," Charlie mused. "They jumped worlds and time. I wonder why both? And Dean did all that for Sam?"

"That's the easiest part to believe," Ellen said. "He'd do anything for his brother. This just shows you how much. That boy. He'd do any fool thing for Sam."

Jo squeezed her arm a bit tighter around her mom's shoulders. She was right. So, just what had they done?

Dean led the group down the steps. The group that contained two Dean Winchesters. Two Castiels. He glanced back. "This is...so fucked up," he mumbled.

"I know," he heard the other Dean huff back.

Two Cas's. God, two Cas's. His head was truly fucked up right now. He could feel his heart starting to race and sweat break out on his forehead as he unlocked the door. He knew he needed to pull it together before he freaked the fuck out. The other Cas was not his Cas. But the Cas wearing jeans and a flannel? Yeah, that was his. All his. He blew out a breath as he pushed the door open and the bizarre group walked into the weapon store.

Dean watched his other self with fascination. The guy looked older than himself. He looked tired and like he had carried a heavy burden for a long time. The other Cas looked so uptight in his suit and creeper coat. He was an angel. He wondered what his back looked like. Was he tattooed as well? Did he have wings? What did it mean that he was an angel?

"Nice set-up," Other Dean said, looking at all the weapons hanging on the walls.

"You don't have Keeper's Cross in your world," Dean asked, still creeped out by talking to another him.

"Whatever that is, I don't think so. We had Bobby. Now we have...the bunker."

"What's the bunker?" Sam asked.

"It's a...place where we have a lot of research stored. Ever heard of The Men of Letters?" The other Dean asked, running his hand along a sword.

"No. You, Bobby?" Dean asked, noticing a scar on the other Dean's arm that he himself did not have.

"No," Bobby squinted in thought.

"Huh. It's definitely different here." The other Dean kept touching things and walking around, but the other Cas stood still, just watching.

Dean was just as fascinated with the Other Cas. He was colder than his own Cas. All business. He reminded him of how his Cas could have been if he was more like the other Angels. Finding differences seemed to help him relax. He was calmer now and could think straight again.

"So," the other Dean continued, "you have this place? Where you meet?"

"Yeah," Bobby answered quietly, looking bewildered at explaining Keeper's Cross to Dean. "The land has been in my family for generations. A group of settlers started the Keepers as a network for Hunters. Hunters come here to get cases, gear up, get id, rest, hide shit. You name it. It's our home base."

The other Dean had stopped his pacing, looking at Bobby with a bit of wonder. "That's...really smart."

Bobby nodded, the two not breaking their gaze. "Keepers. We keep the Hunters going."

The other Dean shook his head. "Yeah. That's...really, damn. Wish we woulda had some support like that, huh, Cas?"

Cas was watching all of them with a thoughtful tilt to his head. "Yes. It may have helped a great deal."

"Dude, it could change everything," the other Dean rounded on Cas in the trench coat.

Cas in the trench coat gave him a placating smile. "I'm sure you are right, Dean."

"So, you and Cas hunt together?" Dean asked, turning back to the group.

"Sometimes. Lately, yeah." The pair exchanged a look. Dean could tell they were close. The looks they exchanged and the way they moved together told him they knew each other very well. But there was an awkwardness or shyness between them.

"So," his Cas asked, "I take it you two aren't married?"

"No," Other Dean said. "Neither of us." He cracked a grin. "I can not imagine Cas being married."

Other Cas furrowed his brow at the man.

"That's too bad," his Cas said. "I can't imagine life any other way." Other Cas gave his Cas the most curious look ever.

Dean bit his lip. He knew himself well enough to know Other Dean was not catching on. "Dude," he said, Other Dean looking him in the eye, "Cas and I are married to each other."

Other Dean's mouth dropped open. Other Cas' eyes lifted in surprise.

"You're married? To each other?" Other Cas asked, his eyes growing wide.

"What?!" Other Dean stammered. "Why? I mean..." he looked at Other Cas in confusion.

Other Cas just smirked.

"I see you two don't have quite the communication skills that we do," Dean laughed. "I mean, Cas showed up on my doorstep almost dead. So, if that sort of thing happens...just roll with it, Dean."

Other Dean snapped his jaw shut and looked stunned.

Bobby sat the Dybbuk box on the table and Other Dean and Other Cas were all over it. He picked up the box gently, cradling it. He immediately turned to Other Cas and asked, "Is Sam still in there? Is he okay?"

Other Cas put a hand on the box, closing his eyes. "Yes, Sam's soul is strong inside of the box, Dean." Other Dean nodded in relief. The pair exchanged a stare and Dean could not help but shake his head. It was so obvious that the pair cared deeply for each other.

"Dean," Sam said, speaking to Other Dean, "What's Sam like, there?"

The other Dean quirked a grin, his eyes taking Sam in again. "Looks just like you. Little older. Hair still too long."

"Am I, is he dating or?"

The other Dean's smile slid. "No. No time really. And Sam's girlfriends have a history of getting killed. It's been kinda rough. Like, all of it."

Sam swallowed with a haunted look. "Jess?"

"Yeah. Did you date Jess?"

"I did. She died when Dean came to get me at Stanford. I was going to be-"

"A lawyer," the other Dean grinned, nodding as Sam huffed.

"Yeah, that never happened at our place. Came in handy on some cases though."

Sam nodded. "What happened to Gabriel?"

"Gabriel?" The other Dean asked. "Gabriel was..." he glanced at his Cas, whose eyes slid over to him silently. "Gabriel died in a stand-off against Lucifer. He saved our lives."

Sam nodded, looking down with a pinched and worried look on his face.

"Hey," the other Dean said, patting his shoulder, "You guys are already doing things differently here. Whatever Keeper's Cross is, keep it going. It might save a lot of lives."

Bobby, Dean, and Sam nodded, heeding his words.

"Dean," Sam said quietly to the other Dean, "when you two get back, when Sam is back to normal...don't ignore what you and Cas have. It's pretty incredible."

"Yeah," other Dean huffed. "We'll get right on that."

Other Dean said it with sarcasm, but other Cas looked momentarily hopeful.

"Are you two going to come here again?" Dean asked.

"No," Other Dean said. "Like I said, we broke a lot of rules to pull this off. We have more than enough shit to deal with at home."

"You could stay here," Bobby said quietly.

Other Dean hung his head slightly, clutching the box. Other Cas tilted his head in a sad look.

"We can't," other Dean said. "I gotta go back and get Sam fixed."

"You could come back," Bobby shrugged. Dean and Cas nodded.

Other Cas grimaced. "I used all I had and power I stole to get here. To come again would likely destroy me and I could possibly harm Dean or Sam."

"Oh," Bobby nodded.

"I gotta ask," Sam said, leaning against the counter, "Poughkeepsie?"

"Oh," blue Dean grinned, "Nice, right?"

"Nice?" Dean frowned, "We couldn't figure out what the hell was going on or who we needed to run from."

"Huh, I thought it was a dead giveaway," the other Dean shrugged.

"No," Dean shook his head.

"No?" blue Dean asked.

"No." Dean said again.

"Sounded good at the time. And it definitely gave you a head's up."

Dean felt so distracted watching the other Dean. There were more things he should ask. More things he wanted to know. But all he could seem to do was watch how he moved and the look on his face and how he looked at Cas. And the other Cas. It was mind blowing. "Is it even freaking you out that you are here talking to another version of yourself?" Dean wondered aloud.

The other Dean shrugged his shoulders. "The first time was way harder. I figured I might see you, so that helps. And Cas is," his eyes studied his Cas, grinning at the blue Jeans and easy manner Cas portrayed. "Cas is way better here than the last one."

Dean's mind wanted to short-circuit. How many other Deans were there? Other Cas's? His chest felt tight again. For a moment he could run with the wild thought of multi-verses, but suddenly it was feeling like too much.

"We gotta go," other Dean said, handing the box gingerly to other Cas.

He reached out to shake Dean's hand. Dean looked at himself in the face and pulled him in for a hug. It was bizarre. "Take it easy out there," he said quietly. The pair pulled apart. "And this?" Dean said, pointing to his wedding ring, "is by far the scariest and best thing I ever did."

"Hey," Other Dean held a hand up, shaking his head.

"Don't knock it til ya try it," Dean grinned, Other Dean's eyes going wide.

Dean moved over to hug Other Cas, who his Cas had only shaken hands with. "Be patient. That guy could love you under all that bullshit he fronts. Trust me," Dean said quietly to other Cas. His wide eyes were so blue. The question in them pulled at his heart. He knew how miserable he and his Cas had been before they had each other. He hugged him again, this time the angel relaxed and hugged him back.

"Thank you," Other Cas said very quietly. By habit, Dean touched his hair and hugged him tighter. He glanced over, seeing his Cas with a worried look on his face. Dean grinned and stepped back.

Bobby was hugging Other Dean and telling him something. Then Sam.

They went up the steps and back into the record shop.

Other Dean turned. "This is your store, isn't it?"

Dean grinned. "How could you tell?"

"Cause. I love it."

Dean nodded with a big grin.

Other Dean stopped, looking at the Keepers still gathered at the front of the store. He turned back to Dean, his eyes bright with tears. "Take good care of these guys. I've lost almost everything in my world. You don't know just how lucky you are."

Chills ran down Dean's arms. "Okay. I will."

"This is just so crazy!" Charlie laughed, hugging both the strangers tightly. Other Dean had a look of pain on his face that Dean recognized. Charlie must be gone in the other world. Maybe all of them except Sam and Cas. It was a chilling thought. He suddenly felt extremely possessive of all his family. He hated to see the two go back. If not for Sam, he would have fought for them to stay.

Dean felt an arm slide around his back, Cas pulling him back into him slightly as the watched the bizarre scene. Other Dean hugged Ellen and Jo. Other Cas hugged Gabe again. They were all muttering quietly to each other and Dean could not help but wonder what they were saying. Cas hugged him tight to him and Dean felt suddenly very sad to let his other self walk back into a life where Cas was only his friend, Sam was in grave danger, and he had apparently lost so many loved ones. But he knew better than anyone that that Dean would never rest until his brother was back together.

Ellen wiped away a tear as she hugged the pair again quickly. "You boys be safe. Whatever it is you're dealing with, kick it in the ass."

Other Cas furrowed his brow in a tight, sad smile and Dean nodded, frowning hard to contain his emotions. "We will."

The pair left, carrying the box and the door jingled as it closed behind them. They walked off into the night, shoulders touching and stride confident.

"Damn," Dean said. "That Dean has been around. Heaven, Hell, Purgatory. And here I thought I had seen a lot."

Cas kissed his cheek and leaned his head against Dean's. "But he was so lonely. And Castiel...I hope they figure it out."

"Me too," Dean said, turning and holding his Cas tight.

"Well, there's one mystery off my shelf. Can't say I coulda called that one," Bobby sighed.

Dean and Cas joined the group again.

"My wig is friggin' flippin', man!" Ash said, looking dazed.

"Mine too," Charlie said quietly, looking at Dean.

He could tell she wanted another hug and he smiled, bracing himself for the thump that was her small frame thudding against him. "I think something bad happened to me there."

Dean held her tight and petted her long red hair. "Well, not here. We got you. They didn't even have Keepers there. Musta been quite the shit show to organize."

He kissed the top of her head and she pulled away, sniffling slightly.

"Hey, you're in good company," Gabe grinned, swinging an arm over her shoulders. "Apparently I was smote by Lucifer himself! I mean, I musta gone out with a bang!"

"I'm sure we all did, all of us who didn't make it," Ellen said, putting an arm around Jo's shoulders.

"Well, I, for one," Sam said, "hope they come back some day."

"Me too," all the others said.

"I hope Sam is okay," Dean said. Dean and his brother exchanged a look. It was difficult for Dean to let someone else (even another himself) go after Sam (any Sam).

"I suggest everybody come have a drink," Ellen announced. They nodded and mumbled their consent. Dean, Jo, and Cas quickly closed up the shop, everyone going to close up their own and meet at the Roadhouse.

Everyone seemed quiet. Dean felt numb. His other self looked like he had surely been through a lot.

Castiel sat in the corner of the booth, Dean practically in his lap. He kept leaning his head back into Cas' and held his hand under the table. He felt extremely thankful to have Cas every single day. Now he felt almost panicky about it.

"I wonder how many other uses are out there," Charlie said with a faraway look in her eyes.

"Maybe there are places where we are just normal people," Sam said, glancing around. "Ya know, like we meet in college or high school or band camp."

"Dude!" Dean scoffed. "Band camp? No. I don't think so."

"Hey," Sam grinned, "Ya never know."

Sam squeezed Gabe's hand tighter, looking over at him. Gabe was slowly rotating his beer bottle in his other hand. "You okay, Gabe?"

"Yeah," Gabe said quietly. "The other me was an archangel. A freaking archangel. That's like...really powerful."

"You are an angel to me," Sam said quietly, kissing his temple and putting an arm around him to hold him closer.

"Can you imagine me with powers?" Gabe laughed. "Dude, I would so mess with people! I mean, how could you not mess with people?!"

"You'd be a bad-ass demon smiter," Sam grinned.

"Nah," Dean laughed, "I bet he'd just fuck with people." They all laughed as Gabe nodded, pointing a finger at Dean as if making a plan.

"Well, I felt sorry for them," Ellen said quietly.

Dean, Cas, and Sam nodded. Bobby just stared at his half-drunk beer.

"It was hard to let them go back. Just felt like a bad parent sending my kids out into gunfire. I don't know. It felt...it sucked."

Bobby looked at her then with a sad smile, putting an arm around her for a side hug. "It feels wrong every time I send these guys out too. But I know what ya mean. Felt real shitty watching them walk out the door."

"You couldn't have stopped them, Bobby," Dean said, staring at his beer. "I know me. And he was enough like me to know there was nothing that was going to stop him from fixing Sam."

"I know," Bobby nodded.

Dean couldn't help but grin at Ellen resting her head against Bobby's and her hand holding onto his. He had often wondered just how close the pair were. Tonight, anyway, they were pretty damn close.

"I shoulda asked more questions," Charlie sighed. "Like how did I die? Who all died? A detailed description of what they dealt with so we could be prepared!"

They all sat quietly.

"Wish Cas woulda showed us some of his powers," Ash grinned, obviously imagining what it could have looked like.

"What was up with the tax accountant look?" Gabe grinned.

"No idea," Cas grinned, shaking his head. "That Castiel had a lot to learn about relaxing. I should have offered him a pair of jeans at least."

"And he had that damn trench coat," Dean said with some wonder. "How's that even possible?"

"I stand by that coat," Chuck grinned. "I just knew it would look bad-ass. Ya know, nerdy bad-ass."

Cas laughed and Dean rolled his eyes, grinning.

"My head is so screwed," Jo mused. "When blue-flannel Dean hugged me...it felt like he wanted to...I don't know. He seemed really happy to see me and really sad at the same time." Ellen and Charlie agreed.

"Do I look as uptight as that Dean?" Dean asked, looking around.

"No," Cas laughed, hugging him tight to him.

"Usually," Jo smirked.

"Sometimes," Ellen and Ash said.

"Yes," Sam and Bobby said.

"Well, damn," Dean grinned. "Guess I need to relax a little bit."

Silence circled the table as everyone was lost in their own thoughts for a time.

"Can you imagine doing this, hunting, without Keepers?" Sam asked.

"No," they all answered.

"How do they know what the hell they're even doing? How do they get supplies?"

"It's kinda sad," Ellen said.

"How did they even get here?" Charlie asked.

"They wouldn't say," Bobby answered. "They were pretty tight-lipped in general. Guess they were protecting us."

"I never would have believed it if I had not seen it with my own eyes," Cas said.

Dean nodded. The whole experience had been surreal and disturbing.

Dean picked up his beer bottle and held it up. "To us. And to all the other uses out there."

Everyone raised their drinks. "To us."

After several quiet moments, Bobby cleared his throat. "I think we need to keep a lid on this. If word gets out, people will think we're crazy."

"Or try to figure out how to do it," Gabe said.

"Ooo, every good SciFi fan knows you can't mess with the space-time continuum," Charlie scowled.

"So, this has never happened here before?" Cas asked.

"No," several answered.

The group called it a night, helping Ellen lock up. They all dispersed to their own places.

Dean, Cas, Sam, and Gabe headed down the alley walking close together but saying little.

When Dean and Cas stopped at their door, Sam and Gabe stopped as well. "Dean," Sam said quietly, "I don't know what that Sam and Dean have been through, but I just wanted to say thank you. You're the best big brother a guy could ever ask for."

Dean rolled his eyes and looked away shyly. "Come on, Sam. That's what brothers do."

"Not all brothers, Dean. Just good ones. Just so happens, I have a great one." He hugged Dean tight, Dean hugging him back. Their time as Hunters had been eventful. Their dad had led them straight into a demon hunt with Azazel, which ended up getting him killed and damn near his kids as well. Dean knew in his heart he would go to the ends of the Earth for Sam. Apparently, in this life and others. Their dad may have put them in danger, but Dean was damn sure trying to keep them out of it.

They stepped apart, Gabe and Sam heading for their back door.

Cas and Dean went up the steps and flopped onto the couch.

"That Castiel seemed...cold. Uptight. And powerful. Could you feel it?" Dean asked, staring blankly at the carpet.

"I did feel it." Cas sat the same way. "And Dean looked like he had been through so much. He looked...beaten. Or tired."

Dean slid his hand over, lacing their fingers together. "I hope they figure out that if they get together, their lives will improve."

"Castiel looked like he might be up for it, I thought," Cas said, grinning.

"Yeah, but Dean looked freaked," Dean huffed.

"I think they will figure it out," Cas grinned. "Maybe we helped a little."

"Maybe."

Note: Okay, feeling like I need to clarify here. This story takes place in AU and if it were following the show, would be at beginning of season 4, except it is has differences since it is AU. Now, when Dean and Castiel show up to get Sam's soul, they are supposed to be season 12. I was going for a flip here. We are used to the show being the main universe and when they go into pocket universes (via Gabe or Zack) we walk into that strange world with them. This time we were in the otherverse the whole time, our boys from the show popping in only briefly, then gone. I thought I would give this a try :)

Final chapter coming and it's a shortie. Ending stories is the hardest part to me.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13. Just Another Thursday

The absence of the Dybbuk box and the residual shock of meeting the other Dean and Castiel wore heavily on all the Keepers. For several days, Keeper's Cross was quiet and subdued.

Dean tucked the vacuum cleaner into the closet and closed the door. He felt like a zombie. He found himself constantly wondering about the other world. He picked up flyers and junk mail, tossing them in the trash and found himself standing at the window in his living room that looked out over Madison Street. It was Saturday afternoon and Jo was running the shop right now. The Roadhouse was busy and several people could be seen out walking in the warming weather.

"Want to go for a run?"

Dean jumped, glaring at Cas. "You scared the crap out of me," he snapped.

Cas gave him a tired grin. "Sorry."

Dean put his arm around Cas' shoulders, feeling his strong muscles beneath. He tipped his head over to rest on his husband's. "I don't run unless something is chasing me."

Cas huffed a laugh. "Alright. I just feel like I need to move."

"I know what you mean." Neither said what had their moods frayed. They knew.

"Should we have offered to go with them?" Cas asked quietly.

Dean lifted his head, looking at Cas. "No. I mean...they have their problems. We have ours. I don't think...I don't know."

Cas' eyes were slowly searching the skyline and Dean wished he could unplug the vibe that had settled through him and his friends and family.

Dean's phone rang on the kitchen table behind them. He sighed, leaving the warmth of Cas' side to retrieve it.

"Hello?"

"Dean," Jo said quietly, "is there any way I could get out of here early. Some friends called and...I just need outta here."

"Yeah, no problem," Dean answered. Jo deserved a break too. If she could get some fresh perspective, maybe it would infect the others. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"You sure?" She hesitated.

"Yeah. It's no problem."

He looked back at Cas. "I'm goin' down. Jo wanted out early."

Cas turned to him with a quiet grin. "I'll come too."

After the mind-blowing visit from their other selves, Dean and Cas had decided to stay at Keeper's Cross for awhile. Gabe and Sam agreed. Cas and Gabe became Keepers and it felt good. It felt like another step different from their other selves. They hoped every step different was a step safer for their family and friends. Their goal over the next ten years was to come out on the other end with everyone in tact. While their line of work was by no means safe, they could at least be safer about it than their counterparts had been.

Black Dog was pretty much empty. They had busied themselves the last few days with the crates of records, entering their purchases into the computer and putting some out for sale.

Dean sighed. He kept flipping radio stations and complaining about the music.

"Why don't you go play," Cas said patiently, pointing to the corner of the store where his guitars hung.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. Anything to distract his mind from the ever present thoughts of what he should have done, should have asked, should have known, that ran on repeat through his brain.

Castiel took the stool at the register that Dean had been on. He grinned when he heard strumming start from the back corner. He could not see Dean sitting amongst the guitars and oriental rugs, but felt sure he was at least distracted for a while. He needed it. They all needed it.

He looked up as the door jingled, announcing an incoming customer. A woman about his age with thick dark brown hair strode in. She wore dark sunglasses and a wide smile.

Castiel waved, which he typically did to customers, but was surprised when she came straight to the register.

"Well, well, Castiel," she grinned even wider.

"Hello," Castiel searched her face but did not remember meeting her before.

She lifted her sunglasses, perching them on top of her head.

"Have we met?" Castiel asked, seeing her brown eyes practically devour him.

"Not officially, but damn, I gotta say, you are even hotter in person."

Castiel felt his cheeks warm slightly. "Are you a...friend of Dean's?"

"I am. A colleague more like it. But let's not bother him yet. He's brooding with his guitar."

Castiel glanced back toward the corner. How did she know that?

"Who are you?" Castiel finally asked, starting to feel uncomfortable.

"I'm your new fan, honey!" She laughed.

The strumming from the back corner stopped abruptly.

"Oops, I think I blew our alone time."

Castiel frowned. Alone time?

"Pamela," Dean said, coming up one of the aisles, "I thought I heard your voice."

Pamela. Castiel's frown deepened a notch. She was not an old, haggard waitress with ridiculous fake blonde hair. She was beautiful. Curvy and perky and young and yep, he did not like her.

"Ooh," she pouted at Castiel, "Be nice now, I took care of your little man here not too long ago." Her eyes tracked Castiel's face. "And I wouldn't mind taking care of that gorgeous head of yours either."

"Down girl," Dean smirked, hugging her. If Castiel could growl, he would.

Her hands lingered a little too long and her grin was too knowing.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked.

"I call, I text, I get no answer," she frowned, hand on her hip and fixing Dean with a sterner glare. "So here I am. Care to explain the cosmic rumble that literally blinded all my psychic vision?"

"Huh," Dean flicked a glance at Castiel, "I don't-"

"Lying to me is like standing here professing you're a virgin. I ain't buyin' it, sugar."

Dean snapped his mouth shut, screwing his lips into a stumped expression.

She eyed him for several moments then turned back to Castiel. He was still glaring at her.

"Mm," she pursed her lips. "I'll try my luck with Sam."

She threw a look at Dean and walked out of the store, Dean following her with his eyes.

"What the hell, Dean?" Castiel finally snapped.

His eyes snapped back to him.

"THAT'S Pamela? I thought she was old and fake!"

"Uh," Dean stammered, "No?"

Castiel crossed his arms over his chest.

"Are you jealous? Hey, she is so not my type."

"She is so your type."

Dean pressed his lips together, trying not to piss him off even further, but Castiel was riled by now.

"She was in your head for hours!"

Dean sighed.

"Have you ever slept with her?"

"Whoa!" Dean held a hand up, frowning. "Now you need to get a grip, man. No, I never slept with her. And she treats everybody like that. Hunters anyway. I guarantee she is hitting on Sam as we speak. It's just...how she is."

Castiel felt ashamed the longer Dean unblinkingly stared at him. So maybe he had jumped to conclusions. But she was his type. "She is your type," Castiel muttered defensively.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Dude, she is way too feisty for me. And most importantly, she is not you."

Castiel's shoulders drooped. "Sorry."

Dean grinned.

"I completely over reacted." He hung his head, feeling ridiculous.

"Didn't know you were the jealous type."

Castiel looked back up at Dean and found him standing there grinning and loving it. Castiel rolled his eyes. "It's not funny."

"Oh, it's a little funny," Dean continued smirking. "Let's go see her make Sam squirm. Cause she always makes him squirm."

"Dean, the shop," Castiel frowned.

"Lock the drawer and let's go. Trust me, it's worth it."

Castiel turned the key to the drawer and pocketed the keys. No one was in the store, so Dean flipped the Open sign off and locked the door, grinning the entire time.

"You're enjoying this," Castiel surmised.

"Oh, a little," he laughed.

Dean pulled the door to The Bookkeeper open, holding the door for his brooding husband. He knew it was wrong, but when Cas got pissed, it only made him hotter. There was something about his countenance that harbored danger and power when those blue eyes narrowed and his mouth firmed into a scowl. It made Dean want to fucking purr. Not that he was admitting that to anyone. He barely admitted the images that slid through his mind to himself.

As they walked in, Pamela stood at the check-out, Sam and Gabe behind the counter. Sam was blushing profusely and Gabe had the orneriest grin on his face he had ever seen. Which was saying something.

"I bet you do," Gabe was grinning suggestively, his eyes alight with merriment.

Pamela put both her hands on the counter, cocking her ass to the side. "So how bout you brew me some Jasmine tea and we take this little party downstairs."

"Sure," Sam said, scooting out quickly and heading for the back counter where he kept a coffee/tea bar.

"I like this one," Pamela said with a wide grin, glancing back at Dean. "He just spews thoughts like a fountain. Fun thoughts too."

"My creativity was stifled for years," Gabe said with mock sadness.

"You poor thing," Pamela giggled evily.

"Alright," Dean snickered, "let's move this little shindig downstairs."

"Gladly," Pamela and Gabriel answered in unison.

"My God," Dean heard Cas say under his breath.

"See?" Dean laughed, putting an arm around his husband's shoulders. They followed the flirty pair as Sam locked the door and finished loading the tray with tea and coffees for everyone.

Dean flipped the lights on in the reference room. A groan and slight movement in the corner had Dean reaching for his gun until he realized it was Ash.

"Ash, damnit, that's a good way to get shot," Dean huffed.

"Sorry, dude. Fell asleep." Ash stood and stretched. He blinked his red, watery eyes, looking around the room. "Oh. Party?"

"No," Dean snapped. "And why are you sleeping in here again Ash?"

Ash grinned and sniffed loudly. "I like the smell of paper. Lulls me to sleep."

Cas started laughing.

Pamela got a big grin. "I knew blue eyes was more fun than that little pouty-face I met earlier."

"I'm lost," Dean grinned as Cas quit laughing and Ash made his way over to Pamela, hugging her.

"Paper," Sam chuckled, "he's full of shit. He sleeps down here because he keeps his stash in the ingredients room with the rest of the herbs."

"And you are chuckling because?" Dean gently shoved Cas' shoulder, looking down at him.

"I may have found it. Accidentally." Cas admitted hesitantly.

"Then accidentally smoked it," Ash saluted, the pair exchanging a wink.

"Don't wink at my husband," Dean shook his head. "And don't smoke with him either."

"I hear ya, Winchester," Ash called, already headed up the steps.

"Smoke in your own apartment!" Dean yelled, shaking his head.

"Where's Ash's apartment?" Cas asked.

"Above the electronic shop," Sam said.

"No," Dean said, looking at Sam. "Charlie lives above there."

"Huh," Sam shrugged. "The other shop? Gabe's?'

"Nope. That's empty," Dean said, actually wondering for the first time where Ash lived. The guy was just kinda everywhere.

Sam scratched his head. "Must have one of the apartments across the alley."

Dean quickly thought about who lived in each place. There were only ten apartments and yeah. It wasn't adding up.

"Anyway," Gabriel cut in, pulling the attention in the room back to Pamela, "what brings this beautiful stretch of denim to Keeper's Cross?"

Sam pointedly handed everyone a cup of tea or coffee EXCEPT Gabe.

"Keep it up, Gabe," Cas grinned, toasting his brother's fading grin with his coffee.

"Hey, Sammy Brown-eyes!" Gabe batted his eyes.

"Don't 'Brown-eyes' me," Sam grumbled, sitting down next to Pamela.

"Baby," Gabe cooed.

"That's enough," Dean choked out through his coffee. "Pamela, start talking before we all have to leave from sap exposure."

Pamela eyed all four of them. "It's just kinda fascinating." Her grin widened. "I'm in a tucked-away room with four gorgeous men...and not a one of them is interested in getting into my pants."

Dean sighed.

"It's kinda freeing," she nodded.

"Congratulations. Can we move on now? Why are you here again?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck as if it were a scratch-n-sniff sticker that would produce patience.

"Of course," Pamela leaned her elbow onto the table, swirling her tea and sipping. "I'm actually here for Blue-eyes."

Cas' eyes widened, everyone looking between the two.

Cas sat up more formally in his seat. "What is it?"

"Chatter. Angel chatter about a friend of yours."

Cas' eyes narrowed at her. "You are going to have to use longer sentences to get your point across."

Dean bit his lip on that little smart-ass comment. Pamela was like a wild animal. She might sit pretty for a minute and lure you in, but Dean knew she could strike out at any time.

"Fine, Castiel," she settled. "I sent a message and you ignored it. When Dean came to see me weeks ago, I told him to tell you to call Anna. Did you?"

Cas paled several shades, sitting his cup down and his head tilting in concern. "I did not."

"I had a few hunters the other day stop by and they said a woman has been asking for an Angel. Castiel."

Cas leaned forward again. "What did she do?"

"Well, she knows to ask for you. Hunters know who you are. So they told her to go to Madison's Powder House. I assume I beat her here."

"Yeah," Dean said. "No newbies today."

"Madison's Powder House?" Cas asked.

"It's a code. When people ask about it, it gives us a head's up that someone out there knows something. We can lead them away or let them in," Dean explained.

Cas had a worried look on his face and a far-away look in his eyes.

"Cas? What do you think?" They had talked a lot about this. Anna was his sister. Cas was not sure what she wanted. Cas and Gabe had talked about it too. Gabe suspected she wanted to abdicate from Angel life.

"I don't know," Cas said, looking lost.

"Pam, what can you tell us?" Dean asked. "Cas has been real hesitant to reach out to his siblings."

Pamela nodded, watching Cas thoughtfully. "Honey, she misses you. She's worried. And she may have some reasons for leaving...but I can't make out any more than that."

Dean waited for the inevitable flick of Cas' blue eyes to land on his own. When they did, that familiar jolt ran through him and he grinned. "What are ya gonna do, Cas?"

Cas stood, his hands fidgeting. "I need to call her. I'll have her meet us somewhere neutral."

Dean grinned. "She can't come here without Keeper vote. Thems the rules."

"Right," Cas nodded.

"Road trip!" Gabriel called. "I call shot gun!"

Cas turned on him instantly. "You will swallow a shot gun before you spend a road trip in the front seat with my husband, Gabriel."

Gabe stuck his tongue out at Cas. "You're no fun, Cassie. Besides, maybe Samsquatch is driving," Gabe winked.

"Gabriel," Sam snapped. "Shut up. Dean always drives. You're stuck in the back with me."

"Trust me," Gabe said, his eyes heating to a warmer brown, making Sam stop in his tracks, "I am always right where I want to be. Back seat with my boo is where I'll be."

Sam grinned, amused and happy.

"As for you Captain Killjoy," Gabe said, turning onto Cas, "remove that stick up your ass and chill out."

Cas' eyes narrowed and Gabe smirked.

"So smitey!" Gabe shook his head.

The group broke up and Dean took Cas' hand as they went up the steps. "So feisty today, Cas," Dean teased, tugging one of Cas' belt loops.

"It's not me. It's that Pamela woman."

Dean had to laugh at the distaste still evident when Cas spoke about her.

"Why is she still down there?" Cas asked, suspicious when they reached the top of the steps.

Dean chuckled, kissing Cas' cheek. "Sam is helping her look up a spirit one of her clients is having a problem with. And Gabe's probably just being a nuisance. Ya know. Like he does."

Cas grinned at that.

Castiel paced their small living room. He had put off the phone call all day. Pamela had left town, thankfully, and there was nothing keeping him from making the call. He wanted to call Anna. He did. But he was paranoid to bring her in to Keeper's Cross. If he even got permission from the others to do so. Keeper's Cross had become a sacred haven to him. His place. His space. His people. The thought of Angel judgement poisoning the peace of Madison Street and the comradely of the Roadhouse. The security of Bobby's house and the safety of his own home. Could she be sabotaging him? Sabotaging the Keepers? It was too much pressure!

"Hey, hey," Dean's voice was suddenly above him, his hands cupping his face firmly. Cas' eyes flew open and he realized he was sitting on the floor, against the wall, living room window above him.

Dean knelt the rest of the way in front of him. "What's going on? What are you stressing about?"

Cas took a deep breath, holding onto Dean's wrists. It was rare he stressed out this badly anymore. Blanking out for moments and finding himself sitting or standing somewhere lost in thought.

"I'm okay," he breathed out.

"Yes, you are," Dean nodded, sitting so close that Cas had to move his legs to straddle them around Dean's hips. Cas swallowed, watching Dean's calm eyes and taking another deep breath.

"I want to talk to her, Dean. I do! But what if she is spying for the Angels? What if she just wants to hurt us? What if-"

"We won't ever know 'what if' it is unless you call her," Dean said patiently. We will meet her and figure it out from there. You got this. Call her."

"Right," Cas nodded. That was exactly what he needed to hear. He clicked the screen button to light his phone up, his legs tensing to keep Dean right where he was. He could do this. He hit contacts and called Anna.

"Hello?"

That was Anna's voice. It was fragile and it made him worry instantly.

"Castiel?"

He had known her his entire life. Could she really betray him? Hate him?

Dean ran his hands up and down Castiel's thighs twice and Cas snapped into action. "Anna."

"Oh, Castiel! It is you! I have been so worried! Are you okay?"

"If you were worried, why did you not call?" Castiel asked, fighting a small war in his own mind to crumble and spill his guts to his sister. But he never had. Why would he start now?

"I was afraid they would trace your old phone. I did not want to accidentally alert them to where you were."

Castiel considered. "Are you okay, Anna?"

"I'm...yes. I'm alive. But I really want to see you. I left the Loraine. I left the Angels and have been running. I tried to find you for awhile but...I gave up pretty quickly. They have no reason to chase me. Only that I ran away. I can not live there any longer. I need to be out here. With people. I got some help. Some new ID and I'm going to college. I'm hidden, I think."

Castiel breathed a sigh of relief. Anna had a life. She was not seeking information. "Would you like to meet somewhere?" he offered.

"Yes!" She exclaimed. "Just briefly. Lunch, maybe? I just want you to know Castiel that I am so proud of you."

Castiel bit his lip, his eyes ticking to Dean's. Dean gave him a worried, questioning glance but Cas did not want to interrupt Anna's conversation. "Thank you, Anna. I'm proud of you as well."

He could picture her bashful smile on the other end of the line. "We can meet next weekend. Saturday afternoon at noon? Where would you like to meet?"

"There's a Biggerson's just off the highway where my college is. We could meet there."

"Alright," Castiel agreed.

"I'm attending Kansas University. Can you get there by Saturday?"

"Yes," Castiel agreed. "See you there on Saturday."

"Thank you, Castiel."

They hung up and Castiel tipped his head back against the wall, his eyes shut closed. "We meet on Saturday at noon. Near Kansas University."

"Okay," Dean grinned. Doesn't seem like she wants much."

"No," Castiel said, a weight lifting from his chest and shoulders. "I think this may have been a good thing. Anna wants a life outside of the supernatural entirely, perhaps."

Dean smirked a grin. "Road trip. With Gabe. Yay."

Castiel chuckled, feeling so much lighter than he had just ten minutes ago. The fact that Dean could do that, calm him, read him and know him, made him warm all over. His legs tightened around Dean's waist, making Dean grin even more. Dean tucked his hands under Cas' ass, lifting him right onto his lap, their chests meeting with a thump.

"Feel better?" Dean asked, looking up into Cas' eyes.

"Yes. Much better," Cas answered, his lips dropping down onto Dean's. It was strange how stress could be so consuming and then just...gone.

"How much better?" Dean grinned into the kiss, making Castiel giggle.

"ALL better," he answered, twisting his hips and grinding down onto Dean to prove his point. Dean moaned loudly into the kiss, his hands sliding back to his ass, squeezing.

"I'm proud of you for calling," Dean grinned.

"Yeah? Do I get a reward?" Cas grinned back, twisting his hips again.

"Be still, you little bastard," Dean laughed, biting Cas' lower lip.

Castiel laughed a deep, dirty chuckle that never existed before he met Dean.

"Oh, it's time for bed," Dean said, his hands clamping tightly onto Cas' hips.

Cas grinned, wrapping his legs even tighter, thwarting Dean's plans to move. Dean only smirked, twisting and Castiel laughed as his back hit the floor in the living room, his head barely missing the edge of the coffee table.

"You gonna make this difficult?" Dean huffed, biting Castiel's neck hard enough to make him gasp and thrust his hips with spiraling need.

"Yes," he barely managed to articulate.

Dean laughed a low and gritty rumble. It made chills run up and down Castiel's spine. Dean sat up, a devilish smirk on his face and his eyes locked onto Castiel's. His hands began unbuttoning his shirt and Cas twisted in an attempt to throw Dean off, but the Cowboy bastard was clamped onto his sides, unmoving. Castiel loved this little game. And so did Dean. Shirt unbuttoned, Dean spread it open, his hands running across Castiel's chest.

"I'll give you one more chance to come nicely," Dean purred into his ear. "Otherwise, I'm gonna fuck you right here until rug burn damages those pretty wings on your back." A bite to his earlobe followed and Cas gasped, eyes rolling shut and hips thrusting up again. The words were almost enough to send him over the edge. And he believed Dean. A little rug burn was worth what came with it. But suddenly what he wanted changed. Maybe he did not have as much fight in him today as he had thought.

He opened his eyes and licked his lips, Dean's eyes watching him hungrily. Cas relaxed his fighting grip and his legs. He sat up, Dean giving him room. "I'll go nice," he grinned, kissing Dean softly.

Dean's strong hands softened instantly. He stood, scooping Cas up off the floor, making him laugh again. "Bedtime, angel."

Dean squinted at the music sheet again. He adjusted his left fingering on the strings of his guitar and strummed. He started from the beginning again and made the adjustment this time.

"That's it!" Cas laughed out loud, nodding and listening as Dean ran through it three more times. His skills were still improving and now Cas and Dean spent Thursday nights practicing while keeping the shop open all night for their Keeper rotation. Dean had to admit, it was a lot of fun.

"Let's take a break," Cas stretched, a wide band of his creamy smooth stomach skin peeking out of the t-shirt that rode up.

"Yeah. I need coffee," Dean grinned. He put both their guitars in the corner and they headed toward the front counter.

'Freebird' filled the store over the speakers.

He sighed, looking at the lonely front door with the 'OPEN' sign still lit. It was 11:45 on a Thursday night. Dean's night to be open all night in case a Hunter stumbled into town and needed refuge. He leaned onto one elbow, eyes lost outside the large shop windows. Lyrics drifted into his wandering thoughts, pulling his memories out onto the road.

A warm cup of coffee appeared in front of him. He looked up and into Cas' warm smile. "What are you thinking about?"

Dean glanced back out the windows. "Bein' on the road. Glad I'm not. Glad I'm right here."

"Me too," Cas grinned, kissing him and coming around the counter to sit next to him. Thursday nights were long and quiet. And sometimes they had the strangest conversations out of boredom and played the weirdest games to entertain themselves. One of their favorites was to call out an item (such as a star or cat or chair) give them one minute to walk the CD rows looking at the covers that could easily be seen. You then had 20 seconds to tap as many CD covers as you could find with that item on the cover. It was moments like those, when Cas was dodging madly about the store to tap the case of any CD cover with a brick wall on it, that Dean could laugh about at any given second. Cas had found and touched 14 CD covers in 20 seconds, breaking one and beating Dean's quite amazing 13 cover taps of hats on a cover in 20 seconds. He had yelled and carried on so badly that Dean thought he would die from laughing so hard. Of course, not all their Thursday nights were all laughs. They had triaged many Hunters and even held a desperate Hunter while he bled out, telling them where to find a vamp nest in Tennisville, Arkansas. It was not a dull job to be open all night. More of an unpredictable evening.

Headlights swept through the windows, making both men glance toward the windows.

Cas looked back first, opening his phone to go back to a book he was reading. Dean snagged the RollingStone Magazine from the rack next to the counter. Dean had been relieved when he and Cas had finally made a decision to stay as Keepers. Sam and Gabe, likewise, decided to stay. Cas and Gabe went on several of the first demon hunting trips to help educate Hunters on how best to fight them. Now, most Hunters got schooled by Gabe or Cas when they stopped at Keeper's Cross. The stability actually felt like stability now. Not a prison sentence. It felt like home. And it felt damn good.

"Guess what I bought yesterday," Cas said from beside him.

Dean had just started reading an article but sat the magazine down. "Hard to tell."

"Well, you have to guess," Cas said with that tiny smile that always melted Dean.

"I have no idea. New shoes."

"Nope."

Dean leaned on one elbow, watching his husband curiously. "Will I like it?"

"I think so."

"A new coat so I can burn the creeper coat."

"Dean," Cas said, pressing his lips firmly and looking at him. "You were out voted on destroying my trench coat. I get to keep it."

"I want a re-vote. Everybody was half drunk when we did that."

"Keep guessing," Cas sighed, looking back to his phone.

"A water pick."

"A what?" Cas laughed, looking at him again. "No. I got a crock pot."

"A crock pot?" Dean grinned.

"Yes. A slow cooker."

"I know what it is. So, you're going to cook."

"I figured you would want to rub it in," Cas smirked.

"Aw, I think it's cute," Dean chuckled. They exchanged a smirking laugh when the bells on the front door jangled violently.

Dean looked to the door, both he and Cas jumping to their feet as Lee Chambers burst through the door with a giant tarp-covered bundle over one shoulder.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered, coming around the counter.

"Door!" Lee panted.

Dean changed steps, heading for the basement instead of helping him carry the load. He flipped the lights on and watched as Lee lumbered in closely behind him.

Dean grabbed and helped lower the tarp onto the large table.

"Is this another body?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Bobby's on the way; I called him," Cas said.

As Dean glanced at Cas, he noticed Krissy standing next to him with a ball of cloths in her arms and a tired, strained look on her young face.

"Is it alive?" Dean asked, turning back to the tarp Lee was unfurling.

"No. Killed it yesterday."

A body laid lifeless and half uncovered on the table. A man wearing a cheap suit.

"I don't know him," Dean said.

"He's a shapeshifter," Lee frowned. "I didn't have time to burn the body so I brought it here."

"Alright," Dean said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah," Lee shifted nervously. "It's the other body I don't know what to do with."

"What-" Dean stammered, seeing Cas looking at Krissy with concern.

Krissy flipped back a section of blankets in her arms to reveal a squinting, blinking baby. It pouted at the sudden bright light and started crying. Krissy dropped her head back in exhaustion. "Here." She handed the wad of blanket and baby to Cas. Cas instinctively took the heap into his arms, struggling until the crying infant was untangled from all but one blanket, dropping the rest to the floor.

The screaming and crying was deafening and Cas looked slightly terrified as he adjusted the infant in his grasp again, starting to bounce it and soothe it with reassurance.

"What the bloody, blue-ball blazes is goin' on down here?!" Bobby was suddenly yelling from the doorway.

"Give it this," Krissy said flatly over the noise, handing Cas a bottle.

Dean watched with fascination as Cas soothed the baby and it began drinking from the bottle with little gasps and wide-eyed blinks up at Cas.

"Lee?" Bobby demanded.

"Look, I know this is bad," Lee stammered, "but I couldn't...kill it."

Bobby, Dean, and Cas looked horrified in turn as each one put together that he was talking about the baby.

"What kinda baby is that?" Bobby asked suspiciously.

Dean sighed. "It's a shapeshifter. Right?"

Bobby sighed heavily and Cas just continued rocking and feeding.

"The mother was human. She had seen the baby change, I guess, freaked out and the shapeshifter husband killed her. I was already there because the father had killed several people at work to get a promotion. Found the dead mother in the basement, ganked the shifter, then found that in a crib at their house. There's no other family."

"You coulda left it there!" Dean snapped. "Why you gotta bring it here?"

Lee shrugged, looking frazzled. "The dad was a problem. But the baby...it's just a baby."

"Does it shift?" Dean asked, hoping maybe if it was only half shifter, they could find it a home easier.

"Oh yeah," Krissy grinned. "It was black yesterday. Watch what baby pictures you have around."

"Wonderful," Dean grimaced.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Cas asked.

"Yes," Lee grinned.

"Right," Cas nodded, grinning at the baby again. "You can be whatever you want to be," he said to the baby.

Dean rolled his eyes. This was going sideways so fast he could practically feel the floor tipping beneath his feet.

"Shapeshifters are pretty much human," Cas said, watching the baby as it watched him.

"No, they're not," Bobby said.

The baby stopped sucking the bottle to smile at Cas, who smiled back, making Dean want to melt into a puddle.

"Oh, this is gonna be bad," Dean started pacing back and forth, both hands fisting in his own hair.

"I just figured you could find it a home," Lee offered apologetically.

Bobby looked out-raged with his jaw dropped open. "This ain't the Humane Society!"

Cas looked worried and Dean froze.

"Or give it a home," Lee added, watching Cas.

Dean held his breath, not daring to even flinch. He watched as a look of worry crossed Cas' face. And then there it was. A spark. An idea. A flicker of hope. "Dean-"

"So help me God," Dean spun on Lee, who threw his hands up in defeat.

"Maybe we could keep it here," Cas said.

"No," Dean said flatly, shaking his head and closing his eyes.

"It really likes you," Lee grinned and then stepped back a step when Dean narrowed a glare on him.

"We can at least help find it a family," Bobby said.

"Look," Cas' voice broke as his face alighted with a smile at the baby. "It changed it's eyes to look like mine! They're so blue now!"

Dean could feel a rush of panic sweep through him. A baby. A freaking baby. A shapeshifter. And Cas looked...Cas looked fucking enamored with it. He looked...happy. Fucking glowing.

Bobby sighed. "Lee, I swear if you show up here with one more living thing, I'm gonna blackball you."

Lee fidgeted with his hands and Krissy rolled her eyes, but wisely stayed silent.

The baby's hair shifted from light brown to as dark as Cas'. Dean hung his head. This was worse than finding a stray puppy. The damn thing was visually imprinting on his husband. He rushed over to Cas, taking the baby, holding it with less cuddle vibe. "Don't get too attached there, Cas."

The baby whimpered slightly, turning to look at Dean.

"So, should I have killed it?" Lee said to Bobby.

"No," Bobby said hesitantly.

"No," Dean and Cas said firmer.

"If I had left it, people would have found out about shapeshifters. Who knows how that would have gone," Lee continued.

"I get it," Bobby grumbled.

"I'm actually surprised this doesn't happen more often," Cas said, a grin growing on his face as he watched Dean.

Dean took note of how he had shifted the baby closer and it was studying his face with Cas' wide, blue eyes and dark hair.

"What?" He asked it.

The baby giggled, curling forward, bouncing back a little and looked at him again.

"What?" Dean said again, getting the same giggle. It was friggin' adorable. It's chubby hands were gripping onto his arm and shirt.

"What!" He said again, fake scowling, and the baby squealed with a laugh and patted one hand against his chest. Dean had to laugh at the little bugger. He looked up, finding four sets of eyes watching him. Lee, Krissy and Bobby were smirking. Cas was biting his lip and watching with earnest excitement.

"Shit," Dean said, seeing where this was rapidly going.

"Dean," Cas grinned, don't swear in front of the baby."

"You're kidding, right?" Dean frowned, "If this kid is growing up with me, it's gonna cuss like a sailor."

Cas gasped at Dean's unintentional words. He looked so excited and it made Dean's heart so full it almost physically hurt.

"Dean, it wouldn't be able to go to preschool swearing," Cas said.

"Yeah, that'll be what keeps shifty here from attending public school, Cas," Dean smirked.

"Oh, right."

"Yeah, this isn't as easy as you might think," Dean said, worrying for Cas' growing attachment. "I have no freakin' clue how to raise a baby. Let alone a shifter."

"But what better place could there be?" Cas implored. "It would have a lot of family here. Diverse surroundings with people that would love him or her and accept them for who they became."

"Slow down, Cas," Dean said weakly, glancing at the baby, who laid its head on his chest, gnawing on its tiny fist sleepily. When had he started rocking? It's like his own body was betraying him by naturally going into baby caretaker mode.

"But here it would have family," Cas' voice softened as he watched the baby falling asleep on Dean. "Aunts, uncles," his eyes flicked over to Bobby, "grandparents."

Bobby made an 'aw-shucks' kinda face, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Damnit," Dean said softly. If Cas got Bobby on board with this too... He looked down, the baby's mouth hanging slightly open, eyes closed and its little body still. It was sleeping.

Everyone stood in silence for several moments.

Bobby cleared his throat, "Lee, Krissy, you guys can head over to Apartment C. It's empty."

Lee nodded and Krissy gave Dean a "you sucker" smirk, making Dean roll his eyes but grin.

"Here," Bobby said, handing Cas a key. "This is to Chuck's. I'm sure he has some baby equipment at the thrift shop."

"I got a mess of supplies in the car," Lee added. "Bottles, formula, diapers, that kinda stuff."

Dean sighed. He glanced at the dead shifter on the table. "That needs buried. Tonight."

"I'll do it," Cas said.

"Dude," Dean scowled, "this isn't a 'I promise to take the trash out if I can keep this puppy' conversation."

"I know," Cas said excitedly, his eyes going from Dean to the sleeping, warm baby.

It totally was though. "We can't just...keep it." Dean said.

Cas nodded, stemming his excitement. Barely.

But they could. Just keep it. They could. Dean had been baffled when his life had changed, flipped, turned upside-down in one random Thursday night when Lee brought a dying Angel through his door. And now here they were, doing the same damn thing. Just like before, there was an inevitability to it all.

"We'll keep it tonight," Dean agreed, Cas exhaling and smiling wide.

"But there is a lot to talk about if this is the plan. There are other options than it staying with us," Dean said, keeping Cas' eye on him, rather than the baby.

There was no other plan. There were no other options. None that Dean would allow in the end. Dean just wasn't ready to admit it out loud. Or to himself.

They made their way upstairs, locking the dead shifter down there for now.

"Watch the shop?" Dean said to Bobby.

"Sure." He eyed Dean with the baby as he sat on the stool behind the counter.

They went over to Chuck's and got a Pack-n-play crib that was pretty clean. Lee brought in the rest of the supplies. They made a little spot behind the counter and Dean finally laid the baby down. He and Cas watched as it scrunched itself up into a ball on its belly, butt up in the air and fell asleep.

"Aw," Cas said, grinning with a look Dean had never quite seen before. He stood up, seeing Bobby watch them.

"Meeting tomorrow," Bobby grinned.

"Yeah," Dean said, running a hand back through his hair.

"Night, boys," Bobby grinned, clapping Cas on the shoulder.

"Night, Bobby," they both said.

It was 2am and the shop was quiet again. Music playing softly over the speakers and the 'Open' sign still on. Dean sat on his stool, watching the sleeping baby, Cas doing the same thing. It was like staring at a campfire. You could just sit there and watch, losing yourself in thought.

"I can't believe this just happened," Cas mused.

"Yeah. Thursdays are like that," Dean mused back.

Cas turned, looking at Dean with such love and hope. "No matter what happens here, it's the thought that something even better than what I already thought to be perfection, could happen again. I love you, Dean. I love our life."

Dean grinned, kissing his husband and wrapping an arm around him as they leaned their heads together, looking down at the baby. "This is just life as a Keeper, Cas. The craziest shit comes through these doors. Beautiful things, scary things, mysterious things. It's our job to help the Hunters keep going, while we deal with what they leave behind."

Cas bit his lip. "I'll never forget you saying you would keep me. It was like being rescued all over again."

Dean grinned. "I did keep you. And now you keep me too."

Cas closed his eyes. "Let's keep it," he whispered, afraid to say it any louder.

Dean heaved a heavy breath, Cas lifting his head away, his blue eyes searching Dean's. "Alright," he whispered back. "Let's Keep it."

The End

Author Note: Thank you so much for reading! Thank you for every Kudo and comment! Thank you for every favorite and follow! I appreciate every single one :)

Keeper's Cross has been a really fun world to be in. Maybe I will do a timestamp some time ;). I already have a few scenes in mind.


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